Incubus (American Horror AU 4)
by Jurana Keri
Summary: Set ten years after 'Abominations', the time has come for Eleonora to realize how lonely she really is. Desperate for someone to share her life with, the coven assists her in conjuring the perfect man. Little does she know that she is asking for more than she could ever bargain for. (Written AU; post-Coven/Seven Wonders)(NOTE: Contains mature content.)
1. Chapter 1

Springtime in New Orleans was always warm, but the beaches seemed even hotter. The sand was hot enough to burn sensitive soles and stubby toes, but at the shoreline, where it was damp and compact, a trail of large and small footprints could be seen. The weather was beautiful, but no one was there sunbathing or swimming in the clear ocean water whose waves crashed against the shore with soft abandon. The sky was clear and azure, and the sun was high, shining and golden, illuminating the only four people on the beach—Chase, his wife Misty, and their two young daughters.

"Daddy, put me down," the younger daughter said in her small, petite-sounding voice. "I wanna go to the water."

"But you gonna get your dress all wet," her mother said. "You sure?"

"Yeah!" The little girl gave an excited squeal as her father struggled to set her back on her feet.

Once he did, he looked down at her and smiled grandly at her. The little girl he had been holding in his arms was Amy, his youngest daughter. His other daughter, Clara, had been walking between him and her mother, but his youngest was his focus at that moment. Chase could remember holding her the day she was born, light-colored wisps of hair on her head with large, sparkling eyes, cooing as she was swaddled in a baby pink blanket—now, she was five and would only keep blossoming in beauty as she grew older. Like her mother, she had curling, voluminous blonde hair that framed her exquisitely heart-shaped face well as it cascaded down her shoulders and blew in the sea breeze. Her eyes were, without a doubt, the focal point of her face—large, round, and vibrantly blue with full, black lashes framing them and giving her a cherubic look even as she squinted from the sun's rays.

"Alright, Amy," Chase told his daughter light-heartedly. "You can go play."

As the fair-haired little girl ran rapidly toward the water, both he and Misty smiled before sitting down on the sand to watch their older daughter join her little sister. Clara, at age eight, was not as spectacular in appearance as her younger sister but she was still beautiful in a mysterious way. With long, dark brown hair that was almost raven black, she was the most distinct in her immediate family. However, her face reminded Chase and Misty, along with most others, of a fine china doll with her smooth, white skin and full, light pink lips with a distinct cupid's bow on the upper. She was wearing denim Bermuda shorts with a blue and white-striped scoop neck t-shirt, holding her sandals in her hand before setting them down next to her parents seated on the hot, scorching sand.

"Are you gonna go with your sister?" her mother asked.

"Yeah, ma," she said, sprinting over toward where the waves were crashing and her little blonde sister sloshed her small hands in the blue-green salt water. "INCOMING!"

Chase and his wife shared a moment of laughter as they watched their daughters stand in the water and slosh their hands in its sheer coolness; after a few seconds, he turned his face to look at his wife. The two had been married for nine years; most people around them had the mindset that married couples lost interest in each other, but Chase knew in his heart that he would love Misty forever and forever be by her side as her loyal husband and best friend. To him, she was somewhat ethereal and fairy-like, attuned with nature and down-to-earth like no other person he had ever known. Her curly fair hair, once adorned by black feathers, was pulled back stylishly with a silver dream catcher-styled clip. Her outfit consisted of a black maxi half-skirt that went to her knees and a top that was a loose-fitting, royal purple camisole that accentuated her figure nicely. Layered necklaces, her signature accessory besides bohemian-styled bangles, hung from her neck and were at different styles and lengths. He could see that her clear, kind blue eyes focused on their daughters and the gentle wash of the shore their small feet were immersed into. He took this chance to give her sudden peck on the cheek and wrap his arms around her, pulling her close and inhaling her sweet, earthy patchouli and myrrh perfume.

"I love you, Misty," he cooed lovingly. His wife giggled and rested her head against him, sighing as the breeze gently kissed their faces.

"I love you, too," she said softly, looking back into his eyes.

Chase, even at age forty, looked like a young man—he had the heart of a child and no cares in the world except for his family and friends. He was a loving father and an affectionate husband, which Misty appreciated so much. When she first met him, he had dark blonde hair; over the years of being married, it had darkened almost to a brown shade. His eyes were youthful and ever so clear; colorlessly gray with a plethora of feelings hidden behind them. Chase was always lean and lanky-figured, but there was one feature about him that she had seen past and into his soul—his severe ectrodactyly, which left his hands deformed to resemble crab claws with only a thumb and a finger with the palm split down the middle slightly. It had always been his greatest insecurity, but after a turning point in his life, he no longer felt the need to hide it under the gray mittens gifted to him by the foster mother of he and his fraternal twin sister, Julie—she had been a social worker at their orphanage who had taken special care of them, raising them like her own children. Suddenly, the squeals of their daughters caught Misty's full attention.

"Get 'im! He's gonna get away!" Clara called out, her hands plunged into the ocean water past the shoreline.

"I'm tryin'!" her little blonde sister said, her skirt soaked as she sat on her knees in the water, outstretched to grab whatever caught their attention. Misty looked to her husband, who also was watching them, and saw the excitement in his face as his bare feet sprinted over to the shoreline to meet his daughters.

"What did you find?" he asked with a chuckle.

"It was a little crab," Clara said; she looked at her sister's smiling face as the skirt of her dress ballooned in the water as she remained on her knees.

"It's _so_ cute!" Amy squealed.

Suddenly, Chase looked down at his feet to see a small, crawling crustacean with an outer shell a bright orange merged with a white underbelly. Its six sturdy legs moved it along the damp, compact sand as the waves continued to lap at Chase and his two daughters, its black, button-like eyes jutting up to see where it was going before little Amy crawled out of the water and toward the bright orange crab they had been searching for.

"There it is!" she exclaimed happily.

"Amy, it'll bite you," Chase warned softly, crouching down to his knees to try and catch the snapping crustacean as he felt the presence of his wife walk behind him. Clara, with her inquisitive blue eyes, looked up at Misty and smiled.

"What'd y'all find over here?" her mother asked, crouching down and peering past her husband's shoulder to see that he had successfully picked up the petite crab into his split, malformed hands. Chase giggled at the ticklish feeling of the crab crawling on him, but his daughters watched in fascination to notice that its claws were not tempted to pinch at their father's skin.

"Why don't it bite you?" Clara asked, her eyes directed at her father as her dark hair blew softly in the wind. He looked back at her and then to Amy, who had an adorable pout on her exquisite face.

"Can we keep him?" Amy asked in her petite-sounding voice.

"No, no, darlin'. He lives here," Misty said sweetly, encouraging the love of nature into her daughters.

"Aw, please?" little Amy begged, holding her hands together.

"Amy," Misty said, holding her arms out to welcome her daughter into them. She nestled against her as she continued; "I think the crab would be pretty sad bein' away from his family in the sea. Don't you, too?"

"Yeah…" Her daughter nodded and frowned sadly. Misty moved some of her daughter's curls away from her face as they watched the small, dainty crab prance rapidly on her father's disfigured hands without pinching him or showing signs of hostility. Clara gazed at the small spectacle curiously, wondering why and repeated the question her father had been too distracted to answer.

"Daddy, why is it not biting you?" she asked. Chase smiled at his daughter as she drew closer onto the damp, packed sand at the shore.

"Because he's just like me," he said softly, peering down at the bright orange exoskeleton of the crustacean and cooing at it as if it were a baby in his arms.

Their two daughters looked at the severity of his deformity and how the crab seemed to dance on his split palms in circles.

* * *

At Miss Robicheaux's Academy for Exceptional Youth not far from the French Quarter of New Orleans, Eleonora and Cordelia were walking through the grand atrium in front of the staircase discussing the current state of affairs concerning the students of the prestigious "boarding school"—in actuality, it was a safe haven for young witches of all walks of life and both genders. The school first went public with their status ten years before, just when Cordelia became the Head of the Council of Witchcraft and a powerful witch rose to the supremacy. Eleonora had been a student herself, but at age twenty-nine, she was a respected member who had been appointed to the council during the same time.

"What a long day it's been," Cordelia said, her large, black sunglasses shielding her scarred blind eyes from view. However, she was able to see using the gift of Second Sight, which not only allowed her to clearly see what she was doing but also into the past and future. Eleonora, who walked beside her, looked at her and slowed down her walking.

"I can't wait to get out of these heels," she answered.

"I know how you feel," Cordelia sighed. "Have you seen Queenie?"

"Not since this morning," Eleonora said. "She was teaching the students descensum."

"I don't think we will be performing the Seven Wonders for a long time to come," the older blonde woman said doubtfully, using her Second Sight to see Eleonora perfectly clear. "Your sister is an excellent Supreme."

Eleonora had not been powerful enough to rise to the supremacy ten years before, at least not to the degree of her much-older sister Julie. Yet she was not as weak as their brother Chase, either—he was Julie's twin and unlike her, he was affected by inbreeding. The youngest of the three, Eleonora, was conceived by what most would call normal circumstances even though she never considered herself truly normal on the inside. As a pupil at Miss Robicheaux's, she was reluctant to believe she had any powers and that she was a witch; the years had given her the realization that things were not going to change. She was what she was even if she only used her powers in moderation. Eleonora was also attractive as a woman with long, light blonde hair that was straight with bangs, verdant eyes with a faint luster, and soft fair skin. As a pupil, she had a generous amount of freckles covering the bridge of her nose—those had faded to allow a more mature appearance of her cut, serene features and narrow nose.

Even her style of dress had evolved from hoodies and jeans to business casual—being a member of the council meant having to dress in good taste. Eleonora had chosen a dress with a burnt sienna top that made her look professional with lithe, straight shoulders and good posture, and a skirt that was black and form-fitting around her curves. As a pupil, she was lanky without many curves; now, as an adult and fully of age, she had developed more curves, especially around her hips. Cordelia had seen her progress as a witch, and was proud of her.

"It's good to teach them something they will eventually and inevitably use," Eleonora said, giving her personal opinion. "In fact, these students need to learn as much as they can."

"Yes, you are right, Eleonora," Cordelia said. "I just don't think it'll be used any time soon is all."

"At least she is only teaching the more powerful of our pupils," the younger blonde woman stated. "As we know, descensum can be quite dangerous." _Because my mother died that way_, she thought to herself in a fleeting frame of mind.

Suddenly, the sound of heavy footsteps caught their attention, and as the two turned to the direction of the source, Eleonora could see it was Queenie, a longtime member of the coven and former pupil. Morbidly obese and sassy, she was dubbed "the human voodoo doll" by the other witches because she was able to transfer pain from her body to someone else without actually harming herself in the process. She also claimed a lineage to Tituba, one of the first tried for witchcraft in Salem's witch trials of 1692. She had dark skin and coarse, black, curly hair flamboyantly styled like a lion with its mane. Even at twenty-nine years of age, she had not lost a lot of weight—her face was still extremely pudgy, and she had fuller lips than most of the other female witches in the coven. She was known for her fashion sense, as she was wearing a rainbow leopard-print top that was far from flattering, and a pair of black leggings with colorblock ballet flats that had a shiny, gold-tone buckle at the toes. She seemed out of breath, which concerned the other two witches as she approached them with her large self.

"What happened?" Cordelia asked with concern. Queenie took another deep breath, straightening her back and allowing her large front to protrude.

"That descensum lesson wore me out," she said wearily. "I had to see my old job over and over."

"Well," Eleonora said. "That's hell for you."

"No shit," Queenie said. "I'm starving."

"Julie's planned a dinner for all of us," Cordelia reminded her. "Herb-roasted chicken, string beans, mashed potatoes, and peach cobbler for dessert."

The obese witch's eyes widened.

"I love peach cobbler!" she exclaimed. "Is it ready?

"Whoa, whoa," Eleonora said. "Slow down, there. No food until Chase and Misty come with the kids."

"Oh yeah," Queenie scowled. "I don't wanna wait though. I'm hungry."

Soon, more footsteps came to the witches' ears—this time, it sounded light as a feather, and they noticed it was Zoe, another longtime member of the coven and former pupil. Like Misty, Zoe had also gotten married, but to Kyle and even took his last name as her own. At thirty, she was the mother of a son and still as angelically beautiful as she was ten years before. Her hair was long, straight, and a richly-colored brown. Her eyes were large and doe-like with a distinct, mysterious sparkle in them. She had rosy lips, a pink blush in her cheeks, full eyelashes, and a heart-shaped face that added to her physical grandeur. Even though the current Supreme had lifted the policy of it being mandatory to wear all-black, Zoe still preferred it even though she owned clothing of all colors and styles. At that moment, she was wearing a long black dress with a corset-like, laced belt at the waist with matching boots and a wide-brimmed hat; Zoe loved her hats.

"Hey there, Zoe," Eleonora said. "All done for the day?"

"Yeah," she replied. "I mean, I have the novices. They're a pain but…they have to learn how to control their powers."

"Well, we can all sit down for a meal soon," Cordelia said. "Let's go find Julie."

They began to walk, and she continued to speak. "Have you seen her?"

"Not since noon, no," Zoe said.

"I haven't seen her since yesterday," Eleonora said.

"You and me both," Queenie added.

They all took their time walking into the ancestry room, a parlor of sorts that had Greek-style columns and a white stone fireplace with fire burning several pieces of wood. The furniture perfectly matched the walls and color scheme of the room, and it was quite luxurious and as much so as the crystal chandelier hanging above the sofa, lounge chairs, and coffee table. Ivory drapes adorned the antique glass windows, and a desk that matched the room was against the wall between the windows with picture frames hung up. Their eye was caught by the sight of a striking woman sitting on one of the lounge chairs nearest the coffee table; sweet incense was burning in the air, and it was completely silent. The other witches made sure to not make so much noise as the woman sat, her shadowed eyes closed in a state of trance.

Eleonora immediately knew who it was—Julie, the coven's Supreme and a powerful witch with a spiritual undertone to her craft. It also was her sister, yet they did not look alike; Julie was forty but looked as youthful as ever. She had striking, albeit unusual features for a beauty such as she; white-blonde hair, smooth pale skin the color of the moon, and a tall stature that evenly distributed her generous, womanly curves. The witches sat down quietly and saw her dressed in a long-sleeved sage green dress that went to just below her knees and it was cinched at the waist with a rope-cord belt holding an empty pouch. Her shoes were simple tan boots with a thick heel that reached the ankles, and she was adorned with Norse-inspired accessories and several amulets that served her purpose well. Eleonora watched as her older sister seemed to toss peculiar, but familiar stones like dice as they fell on the table.

They sure sounded like dice, and that was the moment Julie opened her soulful, deep gray eyes and peered down at the strange letters from an ancient alphabet—the witches watched the Supreme divine her daily prophesy. _She's late today_, thought Cordelia.

"I heard you come in," the Supreme said softly.

"We were looking for you," Eleonora said. "I haven't seen you since yesterday."

"I took a chunk of the pupils out to town today," Julie answered.

"That explains it," Cordelia said.

A moment of silence came among them as Julie looked down and got a vision, looking at her younger sister vivaciously.

"Laguz," she said. "The rune of love…of water…uncertainty."

"Huh?"

"Yes, I'm talking to you, sis," Julie said. "I see a new direction in your love life." Eleonora looked down before answering, biting her lower lip. _She's always right_, she thought, _but I've never been lucky in love. Not since Diego_.

"What do you mean?" her sister asked.

"There's a man coming into your life," Cordelia said. "But my Second Sight tells me that you must take action yourself."

"He could be stuck in a tree or something," Queenie joked—Zoe elbowed her and the two laughed softly. The incense fuming up into the air smelled sweet, like fruit or some kind of flower—Eleonora could not make out what it was.

"It is not yet manifest," Julie said. "Cordelia's right."

"You can't see his face?" Eleonora asked.

"No, it isn't clear," Julie replied, looking down at the other rune that came up in the spread. "Perthro says he is unknown to you…a stranger."

"A stranger?" Zoe asked curiously. "That must be exciting news, then. Someone new."

"Someone new is always good, but…uh," the Supreme said, taking her runes and collecting them to put back into the pouch tied to her belt—Eleonora cut into her sentence just as she was about to continue.

"Julie, you're out of your mind," she said objectively. "I'm not lucky in love. Never have been. I'm a wallflower."

"Eleonora, don't be negative. Remember what I told you about that," the Supreme said sagely. "If anything, take this advice and store it in your mind. The beginning and end are set. What's in between is _yours_. Like Cordelia and I said, you have to be the one to take action. Start by realizing your potential. You _are_ powerful. You _can_ attract someone to you."

Eleonora remained quiet, but Julie turned her eyes to the other witches.

"Have Chase and Misty called yet?" she asked. "We are expecting them for dinner."

"They will be here soon," Cordelia answered. "I'm sure they'll call in an hour."

_Ding-Dong…_

_Ding-Dong…_

At the sound of the doorbell, none of the witches moved—it was Kyle's, Zoe's husband and the academy's butler, job to answer the door for visitors. Julie, Eleonora, Zoe, and Queenie looked to the doorway, but it was Cordelia and her ability of Second Sight who detected the identities of the visitors, smiling before the sound of small feet pitter-pattered against the atrium's stone floor.

"They're here."

Suddenly, the sight of Chase and Misty entering the ancestry room caught their attention—Julie, a very tall woman, towered over the two little girls running into the room with open arms and smiled down at Clara, her long dark hair flowing down her girlish form as the Supreme leaned to hug her nieces.

"Aunt Julie!" Amy exclaimed as Julie held her close in a hearty embrace on one arm while hugging Clara in the other.

"Sweetie! Hi!" the older woman said kindly with excitement, kissing the smooth cheek of her younger niece before accepting a kiss on the other cheek by the dark-haired Clara.

"Auntie, how ya been?" the older girl asked.

"I've been doing," Julie smiled, letting them go and standing up to see them wander to their other aunt, Eleonora, who gave both girls embraces of equal time length.

"Hello, sweetie," the blonde woman said, blowing a playful raspberry on Amy's cheek.

"Hehe!" she giggled.

"And how are _you_, little miss Clara?" Eleonora asked with a playful smile.

"We almost got a baby crab at the beach today," the dark-haired girl said with a smile.

"You _did_?"

"We did," Chase said, childlike wonder in his colorless gray eyes as he leaned down to kiss his younger sister on the cheek before giving Julie, his fraternal twin, a tight hug. She looked down at him and parted her lips in a smile. Eleonora realized how awkward the moment was—Julie was very tall for a woman, standing at five foot-nine with her shoes adding height to her buxom form.

"He was so cute!" little Amy squealed, her intensely blue eyes staring at her aunts before joining her sister to greet the other witches who received them well as they always did.

It was at that moment Kyle stepped into the room; he had always dressed in a suit and tie to signify his position at the prestigious academy, and he had brassy blonde curls clipped close to his head with penetrating dark brown eyes and a handsome face even at age thirty-one. Once a college student with aspirations to be an engineer, he was killed in a bus crash caused by one of the academy's witches, Madison Montgomery, who had been killed by him years before after she refused to revive Zoe during the Seven Wonders trial when she accidentally transmutated onto the gate only to be impaled by a spike. With the help of Eleonora, Madison and Zoe were able to sneak into the morgue and revive an assembled corpse that had become his own even though some of his body parts weren't even his. Upon resurrection, he was a simple-minded creature with the mentality of a young child, but the current Supreme had organized a ritual that would kickstart his mental abilities so he could function normally again. Now, ten years later, he was fully spruced—he was his normal self again as he was before death. Keeping good posture and holding a towel in his folded arm, he looked at Julie and smiled.

"Dinner is served, Miss Julie," he said politely.

* * *

**A/N:**

**The OC's from the Britta/Elina/Eleonora storyline are back and better than ever! I hope you guys like where I take this. I got inspired fairly recently, so bear with me. **

**Please leave feedback, I'd love to see what you guys think. If you'd like, ****Favorite****and ****Follow****! **

**Thanks so much guys! Happy reading/writing! :3**


	2. Chapter 2

The witches all gathered in the dining room, an elaborate room renovated in good taste and dedicated solely for its purpose besides gossip and small talk among the students; they came down for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Julie, upon becoming Supreme and welcoming fifty-something students of both genders, made sure that the table in the dining room was long enough and that there were enough comfortable chairs to seat everyone while satisfying their individual hungers. Kyle had made sure that the best wine in the cellar was out and poured for the adults at the table, that decorative candles were lit in their pewter, almost gold-tone candelabras, and that the food was in neat platters with serving utensils. As Julie sat at the head of the table, Chase sat to her diagonal left with Misty, Amy, and Clara down the row. To her diagonal right was Eleonora with Zoe, Queenie, Cordelia, and Andrew; he was the son of Zoe and Kyle, and was roughly Clara's age. He had come just in time for the appetizers to be brought out.

Julie had Kyle get one more thing before he was set to be dismissed—a reserved bottle three quarters full of sweet, aged honey mead, the Supreme's preferred alcoholic drink. Not that she disliked beer or wine—mead was a spiritual experience for her, connecting her with her Nordic roots and Northern spirituality with every sip and every savor of honey-good sweetness with a bitter aftertaste. It was poured in her very own silver-plated goblet, but before she drank, she looked to the butler.

"Oh, Miss Julie," he said, approaching her and leaning down. "Is there anything else you need?"

"No," she replied. "Other than for you to sit down and join us."

"What?" Kyle asked with disbelief. "Really? I couldn't possibly—"

"Oh, nonsense, Kyle. You work hard around here," Julie laughed with a smile, gesturing to the empty seat next to his young son. "Sit. Have a glass of wine."

There was a pause, and Julie eyed Chase as he struggled to pick up his wine glass with his severely deformed hand; he grunted with frustration, and the Supreme could hear whispered dialogue between Zoe and her son.

"Why are his hands like that?" the little boy whispered, his great, dark eyes peering at the deformed man.

"_Sh_," Zoe sighed. "Don't stare. It's not polite."

"But why, mom?" Andrew asked.

"_Shh_," his mother replied, looking down at him; Julie sensed that concilium, or coercion through sheer willpower, was being used on the boy by his mother to silence him and spare Chase's tender feelings from being hurt. Julie raised her glass with everyone following suit, including the children with their glasses of fruit juice, and they all looked at the icy beauty at the head of the table.

"We're all family here," the Supreme began, looking at her two siblings and then at each and every one of the witches at the table. She then gazed at the children briefly before continuing; "through the years, we've all stuck together. We've experienced ups and downs, joy and sorrow, yet we still somehow manage to find the strength to carry on. I've seen a lot of good in my supremacy. A lot of changes. _Needed_ changes. Tonight, we feast and remember the good times." She turned her gaze to Chase, who smiled up at her with childlike eyes as Misty rested her hand on his thin shoulder. "My brother Chase married a wonderful, _strong_ woman. Next to them are my two beautiful nieces." She turned to look at Eleonora, Queenie, Cordelia, Zoe and Kyle with their son between them in his chair. "Eleonora, you are a profound impact on our clan, but an even better sister. And you, Queenie, Cordelia, Zoe, Kyle…" A tear almost formed in her eye, but it froze to her skin just after starting to fall, "you've _all_ been amazing in teaching our pupils and managing things when they get rough. I'm grateful for all of you, and I thank the gods everyday to have such a wonderful council."

She raised her goblet in the air, speaking ceremoniously.

"To family!"

The rest of the company raised their glasses and spoke in unison; "to family!"

After the initial sipping of beverages, Julie saw that no one had begun to eat yet.

"Well, dig in!" she exclaimed playfully. "The food isn't going to eat itself!"

As everyone laughed at the Supreme's folly, they began to dine on the meal that was planned for them. The appetizer consisted of a freshly baked, French-style roll with a fresh garden salad. Misty and Queenie, the hungriest of the witches, gobbled their plates of leafy greens before devouring two to three hot rolls from the breadbasket in the middle of the table. Julie, washing down the bread with a generous swig of mead, looked over at her sister in-law as she ravenously chewed on her roll.

"Look at you with those rolls," Julie joked. Misty giggled, swallowing what she had chewed before washing it down with wine.

"I ain't eaten all day," the bohemian witch smiled.

"Don't spoil your meal," Chase giggled.

"Remember what I said earlier, one drink for you," Misty warned with a slight smirk in her face as she looked at her husband in response to his childlike folly.

"I won't. Thank you for reminding me, I think I forgot," he replied, kissing his wife's cheek softly—Eleonora, who had just finished her salad, looked at her family members and blushed. _I wish I could have a man kiss my cheek like that_, she thought, _perhaps there is hope for me_.

The main course, a simple but hearty meal, was served as soon as the breadbasket was empty—it included garlic-and-herb roasted chicken breast with sides of verdant, fresh-snapped green beans and creamy mashed potatoes free of lumps or overdone seasonings. Amy did not eat the green beans, but Clara and Andrew cleaned their plates like Misty had. Chase had difficulty at first gripping his fork, but both Julie and his wife helped him grip his fork and knife as he savored the food as it was prepared.

"This is _mmm_…good!" Misty crooned, washing down a piece of chewed-up chicken with her wine.

"Who made this?" Queenie asked. "And what's this I hear about peach cobbler."

"_Peach cobbler!_" Chase's daughters squealed in unison, looking at each other and getting giddy with excitement as they giggled girlishly.

"Yes, I had the cook prepare some today," Julie smiled, sipping her mead and savoring the sweet, bitter honey flavor. "I promised my nieces the first two pieces."

"Aunt Julie? Really?" Clara cooed, fist-pumping with both hands.

"Yes, my little beauties," the Supreme said. Queenie looked at her with her jaw dropped and chuckled, shaking her head.

"That escalated quickly," the obese witch said. Suddenly, little Amy began to speak.

"Miss Queenie?" she asked in her petite-sounding, childlike voice. "I don't think I'll be needin' any sweets. I'll give you _my_ piece."

Queenie's small dark eyes lit up as she looked at the beautiful, blonde little girl, putting a pudgy hand to her chest with a grin.

"Aw, you don't have to!" she squealed.

"But I wanna," Amy said, taking a sip of her fruit juice. She then turned her great, intense blue eyes to her mother and then to her aunt—Misty smiled down at her casually.

"Can I…leave the table?" the little girl asked. Julie smiled at her niece and gave a nod of approval.

"Are you full, little one?" she questioned. "Want us to save your food for later?"

"No, I'm full," Amy said, getting up from the table after receiving a hearty side-hug from her mother—Eleonora peered at Misty as she held her daughter, kissing the top of her curling blonde head. _I never wanted children_, she thought, _they could never be as normal as I wished to be myself_.

"Can I be excused, too, Aunt Julie?" Clara asked.

"Me, three!" Andrew called out.

"Yes, you may," the Supreme said to her older niece. As for Andrew, she looked over at him and gave her response after he repeated himself.

"Miss Julie, can I be excused?" he said.

"That is up to your mother," Julie answered, looking at the doe-eyed Zoe. "Zoe?"

"Well, are you finished?" she asked her son.

"Yeah. I want to leave."

"Then you can," Zoe said; as he hopped off his chair and ran out of the dining room, she had no choice but to remind him of good conduct; "don't get in trouble!"

Julie chuckled, shaking her head as she sipped her sweet, bitter-tasting honey mead slowly, her soulful gray eyes scanning everyone at the table before placing the silver-plated goblet back near her plate. She shot a glance at Eleonora, and using her sharp intuitive powers, she sensed a strange emotion running through the course of her body. Eleonora, however, saw her sister looking at her and glanced back, sighing.

"Julie?" she asked quietly, "why are you looking at me like that?"

"Oh, nothing," she said, regaining a mundane focus. "Are you alright? Enjoying the food?"

"Yes, it's good, thanks," her younger sister said, taking a forkful of food to her mouth and beginning to chew before washing it down with a swig of wine.

"So, Eleonora?" Misty asked in her inviting Southern accent. "How'd your day go?"

"Oh, the usual," the woman replied, her wine glass still in her hand. "Just…you know, teaching. Managing. The usual."

"Did you teach anyone somethin' new?" Misty asked, taking one more bite of her food from her newly-cleaned plate.

"Weather control isn't something these students pick up as easily as telekinesis or, say, divination," the woman explained, preparing to take another sip of wine to her lips. "Weather control isn't a common power at all. I tried to have the pupils make it rain, but it didn't work." She was speaking into her glass, "so I had to make it rain before making it shine again just to show them what I was talking about."

"That explains why it rained when I took my group out today," the Supreme said, finishing her food with one last bite of chicken.

"You never did tell us where you took them," Cordelia said, using her Second Sight to see Julie's striking, ice-white features.

"I took them to the hospital," the replied.

"Why? What was wrong with them?!" Chase exclaimed with worry—_he still sounds like a child_, Eleonora thought as she looked over at him.

"No, no, Chase, nothing was wrong with them," Julie said, trying to appease him. "I was trying to teach them to properly utilize healing powers."

"Ooh," he sighed, cooing with relief as he put a deformed hand to his chest and leaned back. "Thank goodness."

"Speaking of healing," Julie continued, sipping her mead quickly. "Misty?"

"Yeah, Julie?" the bohemian witch asked.

"Maybe this week, you can teach the students how to make your magic mud?" the Supreme suggested. "Maybe give a lesson in resurgence? You and Eleonora make a great team. You both have that ability."

"Be happy to," Misty said with a smile, glancing over at Eleonora with her clear, crystal-blue eyes as she took one more sip of her wine.

* * *

Later than night, after peach cobbler was enjoyed by all but the generous youngest daughter of Chase and Misty, Eleonora found herself staring up at the moon while sitting at the desk adjacent to the windows in the ancestry room. It seemed to glow down at her like a fiery beacon of inspiration as she held a silver-toned ballpoint pen in her hand with a leather-bound journal in front of her. Writing was always her greatest passion, and her sparkling green eyes focused on the paper as she penned out words like rapid fire:

"_Black and blue shoot across the sky,  
I can see it from where I lie,  
The sun is setting, going to sleep,  
The dark surrounds, like the ocean deep_…"

She tapped the end of her pen against the paper, thinking of what else to express through her writing. Poetry was her favored outlet even though her laptop was full of stories that looked as though they were written by Dickens or Hemingway. She sucked her front teeth and continued:

"_I like to gaze up at the stars,  
So I can forget my cares and all my scars,  
I have no one to look after me,  
The real me is someone no one can see,  
So I'll wait until I find some sort of love,  
And until then it's just me and the stars above_."

_This is painfully accurate_, the blond woman thought as she heard footsteps coming into the room. Turning her head, she saw Julie standing tall with perfect posture as she made her way to her. Her long, forest green dress hugged every feminine curve on her frame, and the sound her boots made as they hit the stone and carpet floor was most distinguishable above all. Her snowy blonde hair seemed to glisten even in the dim candlelight as her soulful gray eyes penetrated her sister, delving into feelings and identifying them as best as she could. She was amazing at that, but then her aura came into view—a color resembling muddy gray glowed in the moonlight around Eleonora.

"What are you doing?" Julie asked.

"Writing," her sister answered quietly.

Without any further talk, the Supreme took a seat in the lounge chair closest to the desk even though her back was facing her, crossing her legs and still sensing her aura with her abilities.

"You have a…very murky gray aura, Eleonora," she explained.

"Yeah?"

"Just saying," the Supreme began, "if you ever want to talk out your feelings, please do so. I'm your sister."

"I'm fine," Eleonora said.

"No, you're not," Julie objected calmly. "Please talk to me. Something is wrong. I sense fear on you."

Suddenly, Eleonora turned around with full, sharp intentions in her response.

"Julie!" she snapped. "What the _hell_ is there to be afraid of?"

"You tell me. Show me that poem you're writing," the Supreme pleaded. "Please."

Julie, without even looking at the leather-bound journal in front of Eleonora, raised her arm and concentrated, telekinetically floating it in midair faster than her younger sister could grab it and directing it her way. Eleonora stood up and walked rapidly over to the adjacent sofa, plopping down on the upholstery before looking at Julie as she read what she just penned down in the moonlight. Her gray eyes scanned the perfect cursive and smiled sadly.

"Beautiful," Julie muttered.

"Hm." Eleonora had nothing to say.

"It's very…deep," the Supreme added, closing the journal and giving it back to her sister, who looked at her with disapproval; her older sister shook her head and uncrossed her legs, leaning forward and making eye contact with the light blonde-haired woman.

"There's something you want to talk to me about," Julie assumed, using a tranquil tone to appease her younger sister, who nodded slightly.

"Yeah," Eleonora said. "Can't you tell? You shouldn't have to ask."

"But I do," Julie replied, "because you're my sister and I love and care about you." She paused. "Judging by this poem, you're not happy. You're lonely."

Biting her lower lip, Eleonora nodded with a soft sigh of misery.

"Yeah…I guess I am," her younger sister answered.

"You're probably thinking about what I told you this morning," Julie stated. "It's true. I _do_ see a man in your future. You won't be lonely anymore, and even so, you have _us_. We are your _family_."

"I love how Chase and Misty have the perfect marriage," Eleonora chuckled, a tear forming in her eye. "Just seeing them affectionate with each other makes me…I don't know, both happy _and_ sad, I guess." She paused, looking down at the black skirt of her stylish, business-casual dress. "I remember when I dated Diego. Two years we were together. I guess he left me because I was too much to handle for him, with my powers and all. Plus, I did not want to get married and have kids, but it was more so the latter. I could never bring a child into this world under the knowledge that they cannot be like everyone else. All my life I wanted to be normal, but the years have made me accept that things are never going to change. I'm a witch, and that's all I ever will be."

"It isn't a bad thing, Eleonora," Julie said encouragingly. "Surely, it's somewhat discouraging when you see it that way, but you are _gifted_. You were born like this. We all have a purpose that will change the world, even you." She paused. "As for…you know, you feeling lonely, I can sympathize with that. I was in my early twenties when my fiancé died in that car accident. I haven't found love since. I never really was interested. He was the _only_ man for me, and I know that one day, he and I will be reunited in the world beyond here, happy with a loving existence."

There was a moment of silence, and Eleonora looked at her older sister with curious green eyes, moving her light blonde hair aside.

"Julie?" she began. "Do you think magick will be able to quell my loneliness?"

"Possibly," the Supreme assumed. "I think Zoe and Queenie are still awake. Misty and Chase went home an hour or so ago."

"Oh," her younger sister said—she looked to feel Julie's cold hand resting on her clothed shoulder.

"We can look in the Liber," Julie suggested. "Are you sure this is what you want, sis?"

"Yes."

* * *

Queenie and Zoe came down the grand staircase from their rooms upstairs and to the ancestry room quietly, where Julie and Eleonora were setting up a circle for a ritual found in _Liber Umbrarum et Lux_, the centuries-old grimoire Julie had in her possession even before becoming the Supreme of the coven. The book covered most topics regarding mystical arts, but this ritual they had come across was intended to summon the ideal partner for the caster or, if a group like a coven was casting it, for the intended member in the group. Eleonora was that intended member, and as they prepared, Julie encouraged her younger sister to clear her mind and meditate to get an idea of what to ask for in the spell. Zoe lit the candles, Queenie set out supplies needed such as a fireproof bowl washed with holy water, four white candles to be surrounding it and placed in the cardinal directions, a rose with thorns intact, a glass of sweet wine, a piece of fine parchment, red ink and feather pen, and a large deep red candle dressed with Dragon's Blood essential oil that Julie and Eleonora prepared just after her short meditation to clear her mind.

When the protective circle was officially cast, the spellcasting began—Eleonora read the Latin script in the grimoire where it said to light all of the cardinal direction candles outside the fireproof bowl including the large red one dressed in Dragon's Blood oil. As the rest of the coven sat comfortably and concentrated, Eleonora read the text while Julie peered over her shoulder.

"It says to write out your desires in…" She paused to ensure the words were correct, "the ideal partner."

"Which means whatever you want," Zoe explained, "your dream man."

"Exactly," Julie added.

Eleonora, in the confines of the magick circle, leaned down and opened the bottle of red ink and dipped the cap of the feather pen into it, thinking long and hard about what to write and visualize in order for the spell to manifest. Diego, her ex-boyfriend from close to a decade before, was a young man of Latin blood with light olive skin, raven hair and deep, soulful brown eyes that radiated love and kindness. Remembering that he was the one who left her for "petty" reasons, she knew she did not want a man like he was—acting on Julie's runic prophecy of a stranger, she wrote that down as the very first thing. Suddenly, she was lost; _what am I going to write_, she thought.

"What traits in a man…oh god, I'm confused," she whispered.

"Get it together. Focus," Zoe encouraged, thinking and putting her head with Eleonora's. "Hm…height?"

_Tall_, Eleonora thought as she wrote it down in red ink on the parchment.

"Not _too_ tall," Queenie objected, "you don't want him to crush you while you're doing it."

"Hey!" Eleonora cackled. "Not cool."

"How about muscles?" Julie suggested. "Ooh, imagine. He'd be your warrior king, protecting you and claiming you as his. You'd be his queen."

_Muscular build_; that was the next thing she wrote on the parchment.

"Hair color?" Zoe asked, looking at a focused, vigilant Eleonora suggestively, tapping her shoulder. The blonde thought for a moment before taking the metal cap of the feather pen from dipping to get more ink to the parchment.

"Hm, I like dark hair. Maybe brown or black," Eleonora said.

"Write it, honey," Queenie said in a sassy manner.

_Brown hair_.

She paused for a moment, looking down and adding something else.

_Handsome_.

"Handsome," Zoe added, reading off the paper. "He should be _very_ handsome."

"What about his eyes?" Queenie asked. "Have a color preference? I personally like nice eyes."

_Crystal clear eyes._

_Blue eyes._

"Oh, I love blue eyes," Julie said in a slight purr. "Good idea. Hm, personality…what about that?"

"Someone…_nice_?" Zoe suggested. "Likeable?"

"Someone with a brain," Eleonora said. "Someone I can talk to. Someone I can be myself around."

"Write it!" Queenie exclaimed.

_Intellectual._

_Accepting._

"What about…" Julie thought, "maybe, uh…you know, _huge_?" She let out a giggle with a blushing face afterwards.

"Oh, c'mon! Julie!" Eleonora whined with embarrassment.

"Take this word of advice. You need _passion_ in a relationship," her older sister told her, leaning in to see what she had been writing down. "When a man loves you like _that_, he worships every part of you and claims you as his own, and—"

"Who cares?" Zoe asked sarcastically. "As long as it's in, it works."

Eleonora put her thoughts into the pen as she wrote.

_Romantic._

_Passionate_.

She thought for a moment before adding one more trait to the list.

_Someone I can feel a connection to._

Eleonora and the other witches in the circle peered down at the list and read the next step as described in the book. According to the scripted, ancient text, Eleonora had to take the thorny rose and puncture her fingertip on it and let the blood drip three times onto the parchment before setting it aflame and chanting an incantation in unison until it burned out completely. As she took the rose but the stem, she winced at the sensation, feeling blood dripping freely from her finger and onto the parchment in more of a small trail of heavy blood than three specific drops. As soon as she took the parchment to the red candle's flame, she dropped it into the fire-proof bowl and they began to chant, holding hands and sitting in a circle:

"_Omnia haec spes mea voluntas, _

_Et eos, id est veraciter _

_et sanguinem eis nomen iurare libenter. _

_Ut lux et flamma non ardebit hoc luculentum _

_socius meus eris et enutries me spiritus est. _

_Factum est quod volo_."

The chanting continued, and Eleonora focused so hard her head began to throb with pain until the fire completely consumed the paper. The witches gasped as the flickering flames suddenly burst out and became white as a fresh snowfall. Julie, looking at the glowing orb of fire with awe, looked at Zoe, Queenie and then to Eleonora before raising her hand and freezing the orb so that it stopped completely—she used her icy powers to put out the remainder of the candles.

"We should be to bed now," Eleonora said.

"Yeah," Julie whispered. "Let's."


	3. Chapter 3

The night was quiet, dark, lonesome—Eleonora, along with her sister Julie, Queenie, Cordelia, and the Spencers called the sizeable mansion-based academy home. She was nestled beneath her thin comforter, fixed especially to keep cool during the humidity of summer. Her eyes were closed, and she turned on her side, breathing slowly and silently as her mind was blank and at ease.

Suddenly, the sound of a deep moaning caused Eleonora to trudgingly open her eyes. With sleep compacted into the corners of her eyes, she raised her fingers to them to pick it out before sitting up to look around the room for the source of the sound. Seeing nothing but the usual darkness, she gently laid her head back on the pillow and closed her eyes. Within twenty minutes of falling asleep, she tossed and turned violently, feeling the heat rise uncomfortably as it made her sweat. In her sleep, she paid no mind to the return of the strange, deep-sounding moans as she tossed the covers off her form.

It escalated to tingling sensations in the lower portion of her body from the pelvis down, intense heat at the loins as she moaned seemingly from the sizzling sensations. However, it did not stop there—Eleonora began to tear off her clothing in her sleep, unknowingly gyrating her hips in the nude as sweat escaped through every pore. There was neither pain nor suffering; in fact, it was quite the opposite—it was ecstasy, pleasure at its finest. It couldn't have been sexual frustration, as her conscious mind would know, but she moaned gradually louder until breathing heavily in a coitus-like climax.

The following morning, Eleonora realized that she was completely naked. Gasping in shock at the sight of her personal indecencies, she accidentally slipped and fell off the bed and to the carpeted floor next to where her pajamas were. She reached for them and put them on briskly only to notice that there were rips in the fabric; it were as though a tiger had fiercely torn into her clothing with its razor sharp claws. Shaking her head, she tossed the clothing aside before standing to approach her wardrobe, opening it to grab a black pencil skirt with an elastic, wide waistband in which to tuck in her plain white scoop-neck tank top. To complete the look she was going for, she took out her favorite black bolero blazer and a fresh pair of undergarments before sprinting to the shower to clean up the perspiration that still stuck to her form.

After breakfast with the thirty-one students, Cordelia, Queenie, Zoe and her son Andrew, Eleonora was set to take a mixed group of pupils outside in order to reattempt a lesson on atmokinesis, the power of weather control, a power in which she had been proficient all her life. She had been born with the ability among a few others, and it was the first of them she had discovered during early childhood. The group of students all worked together to make the sun shine, but it still remained cloudy. She only had a minute of pride to herself.

* * *

Within the second night of casting the spell with the aid of the other witches, Eleonora experienced very much the same night sweats, tingling, intense heat and unexplainable arousal in her loins, tearing off her own clothes as she moaned out, and the same, haunting sound of deep, gruesome growling. There were only a few differences—thinking she was in a dream, she felt a presence above her, taking her and plunging deep into her core. Paying no mind to it, she remained asleep and lost in the climactic ecstasy.

Upon waking up, she scurried to get back into her pajamas and felt a strange pain on her neck. Eleonora walked toward the full-length mirror to notice long, superficial scratches that resembled something similar to the morning before—as though a tiger pranced into her room and attacked her during sleep. Getting bathed and dressed in her usual business-casual attire, she went down to meet the others for breakfast. While the students ate at the long table in the dining room, the members of the coven ate at the table in the kitchen; it was when Eleonora was seated that Julie noticed the heavy scratches on her sister's neck.

"W-What are those?" the Supreme asked. Queenie, Cordelia, Zoe, and her son Andrew all looked to see what she had been talking about—Eleonora just stared at them like it was nothing.

"Huh?"

"We don't have any cats in here," Julie said. "Where did you get those scratches?"

"Oh, I woke up with them."

"But they're so long, though," Zoe noticed. "What have you been doing?"

"Maybe she's been doing something _wicked_?" Queenie assumed with a sassy cackle. Eleonora and Zoe looked at the obese, ebony-skinned woman strangely while the doe-eyed, angel-faced witch covered her young son's ears.

"Uh, watch what you say," Zoe snapped. "There are _children_ in the room."

"Andrew, are you done with your breakfast?" Cordelia asked.

"Almost," the little boy answered, his dark eyes looking at the blind witch with large, gaudy sunglasses.

It did not take long—when he left, he took his syrup-coated plate and empty glass formerly of orange juice with him to the sink to clean it off. Andrew made sure the water was only running shallowly so he could still be able to hear what his mother and the other women at the table were talking about in regards to the mysterious scratches afflicted on Eleonora's neck.

"What's been going on in your sleep?" Queenie asked. "Are you doing—"

"Look, I don't know," Eleonora replied, holding her hands out as she spoke with them to add emphasis to her words.

Suddenly, Julie's cold hand, not unusual, reached for her sister's forearm as she closed her eyes. Eleonora gasped, seeing her concentrate only to open her eyes and stare conspiratorially at her sister.

"Uh…Eleonora?" she asked uncertainly.

Then Cordelia, using her gift of Second Sight, reached to hold her other hand, gasping and letting go immediately after receiving similar visions as the Supreme had.

"Oh, dear," the older woman said.

"Dreams of an erotic nature," Julie said.

"Huh?"

"Yes, Eleonora. I saw everything. You woke up naked, didn't you?" her sister asked.

"Ugh," the younger blonde muttered. "I-I don't know what happened. I_did_ wake up without my pajamas on, and I think the AC is broken because it suddenly got very hot."

"Hot?" Queenie asked. "I mean, this city's hot as hell this time of year. What do you expect?"

"No, it was comfortable. It was me getting hot," Eleonora said. "Then…I had this…dream, I guess."

"Tell us," Julie insisted, resting her pale white, round-heart shaped face on her propped hand on the table.

"It wasn't painful…didn't feel like someone hurting me," her sister said. "It felt…oh my god, like…amazing. It felt so good."

"Erotic, huh?" Zoe asked, repeating Julie's assumption as she sipped her cup of hot, decaffeinated coffee. "Who was it?"

"I couldn't see their face. I don't remember," Eleonora said, moving her fringe to the side of her forehead.

"We should get Misty over here to put that poultice on her scratches," Cordelia suggested.

"No, no. I can heal her myself," Julie said.

The Supreme stood up, looking down at one of the amulets hanging from her neck as she made Eleonora tilt her head back to make the animalistic scratches more noticeable. Julie kissed the palm of her right hand and concentrated, pressing it into her skin and focusing enough to repair the scratches completely. The other witches watched as Julie pulled her hand away, looking down to see Eleonora's skin back to normal. Even just after rising to the supremacy, Julie tried to heal the large burn scar on the back of her neck with it being partially successful—it was no easy task considering the scar was only so many years old.

* * *

The third night, Eleonora seemed to be fully aware even as she slept—Julie had given her a jet talisman to ward off evil spirits during the night. Even a candle had been lit on her bedside table in the event she suddenly woke up in the middle of the night. Just when the sensation of heat, tingling, unexplained arousal in her loins, and night sweats came, she gripped the jet pendant that was hanging around her neck, her eyes opened wide but too weary to actually see anything but a figure standing at the foot of her bed. Startled, she jumped, taking the covers off her and stepping onto the floor with the figure seeming to turn itself to face her direction. Eleonora darted her green eyes downward to see that there were no feet—the figure was just floating in limbo.

"G-Get out," the blonde witch ordered. "Whatever, _who_ever you are. Please leave."

She looked behind her to distinguish a lampshade, but the figure drew nearer before she had the chance to flick on the switch, let alone telekinetically turn it on. Eleonora was too dumbstruck to scream, too horrified to faint, too speechless to say anything at all—it was strange. The figure was above eye level, quite tall, but did not appear to have eyes itself. It sent chills down her spine when the figure finally spoke.

"Don't be 'fraid, darlin'. I ain't gonna hurt you."

"Show yourself!" Eleonora exclaimed.

"Oh, darlin', you know I can't be doin' that yet," the figure said. "I let you hear my voice, so ain't that enough?"

"No!" the blonde witch exclaimed, taking care not to wake any of the students or the council members up. "Show your face. _Now_."

There was a strange, eerie silence—Eleonora waited for an answer or for the figure to show their face and reveal their identity.

"If you insist," the figure said, "come on over by that mirror. Bring that candle. You'll be seein' me. My true form."

"True form?" Eleonora asked.

"Yup, now go over there."

As the figure seemed to float toward the intended place, Eleonora resisted the urge to turn on her lamp by instead reaching for the candle at her nightstand, which was only seconds away from being a mere nub of wax with a flickering flame dancing on the wick. With her finger in the loop of the candle holder, she slowly made her way to the full length mirror. She stopped for a minute, getting a glimpse of a reflective gleam as she slowly drew closer, nervously with apprehension.

"C'mon, sugar," the figure said, almost a purr in its voice. "I ain't gonna bite."

Bringing the candle up, Eleonora gasped at the sight she saw in the mirror. Instead of seeing her own reflection, it was the image of a young man; _why did he hide himself under the guise of a black cloak_, she thought, _he's so handsome_. He seemed to have a radiant magnetism about him, and she peered into his smirking face to admire his features—he was indeed magnificent with brown hair, crystal clear blue eyes, and a chiseled face cut like glass. Her green eyes ventured lower to admire his physique as it was shown under a plain white t-shirt—she saw hints of a muscular frame with broad, manly shoulders and good posture as he stood in place of her reflection. The figure smiled, his white teeth sparkling like a thousand suns and dazzling Eleonora to the point of parting her lips for a slight one.

"Surprise," he muttered.

"S-Step out of that mirror," Eleonora said nervously, politely pleading with the figure.

"Oh, c'mon, sugar," he said, his eyes piercing and intense at the witch. "Can't you just admire me like this? You ain't never seen nothin' like it, have you?"

"Please, just…" She gulped in fright, still shocked by what she had seen, "step out? D-Do you have a physical form?"

"Oh, I can try," he said. "That's the least I can do for the fine lady who summoned me."

_Summoned_, she thought as she widened her eyes and gasped, _could it be?_

"_Summoned?_" Eleonora asked, bringing the candle downward at a safer distance. The figure noticed her look of shock and shook his head.

"Aw, baby-doll," he cooed, morphing into his physical, human form as he stepped out of the mirror. Eleonora nearly dropped the candle to see him this way as she adjusted her gaze to look up at him—_he's tall_, she thought, _he has to be five eleven or six feet_.

"I'm five foot ten, in actuality," he said—she gasped in shock, realizing that she had just been thinking and speculating about his height.

"Huh? How did you—"

"I know what lurks in a woman's mind," the figure said, cutting in with his painfully soft, seductively deep voice. "Your's don't surprise me. I can read everythin' your thinkin' of right now. It's an easy trick, really..." He trailed off, circling the weary, frightened witch as she stood still, entranced by his presence and magnetism. "I know you're capable of the same doin's."

"H-How did you get here?" Eleonora asked forcefully. "I don't understand!"

"I can sense your fear. You're terrible at hidin' it," he snided, circling her more. "To answer your question, you gotta first ask yourself. Who do you believe to be the perfect man? What traits did you ask for while doin' that ritual with your friends?"

Eleonora was struck silent, her eyes widened and fixed on the door of her room as the handsome figure lurked around her, circling her with small steps to accompany his soft, kindly, non-rhotic Southern accent.

"I can remember clearly what you wrote down with that blood red ink on that fine parchment." He paused, still circling her slowly with thoughts in good order; his voice droned like music to her ears. "Tall…handsome…a muscular build…brown hair…crystal clear blue eyes…" She felt chills being sent down her spine as she felt his presence behind her, breathing near the crook of her neck and whispering as she snaked his fantastical arms around her waist, "romantic…passionate…someone with a brain…someone you could talk to…_huge_—"

"I didn't say that," Eleonora breathed, feeling pleasure from his presence alone.

"Oh, but it was still in your mind as your fellow mystic uttered that word from her tongue," he whispered, his hands caressing and touching as he tried to slink his hands up the front of her pajama shirt. "But aside from someone acceptin', there was one other request you had for the powers that be."

He leaned in more, whispering directly in her ear as he sensed a foreign calmness within her—"someone with whom you could feel a connection."

He sighed breathily and slid his hands slowly up the front of her shirt, making her gasp and moan softly as he squeezed her full, small breasts gently with little pressure.

"I knew that blood smelled familiar when you let it drop durin' the ritual," he whispered, still fondling her and making her moan softly without inhibitions to stop her. "As the parchment burned, I could smell it as I was bein' summoned. My, my, it was sweet-smellin'…I felt the hidden desire then. I've a connection with that sweet smell…it's like I known you before."

Eleonora was amazed, taken by him—never a believer in love at first sight or strong attachments in short amounts of time, she let herself go as she felt his unreal hands fondling her rounds, feeling his thumbs just barely grazing her soft nipples.

"Tell me your name," she begged in a pleasured sigh.

"I didn't tell you my name, sugar?" he asked.

"No, no, you didn't. I want to know," she said.

"You're Eleonora," he said. "I knew that the moment your blood hit the paper."

"But you…uh…who are you?" she asked. "Where did you come from? What are you?"

Her tone of voice was ecstatic, like a purring cat in heat. He chuckled slightly and bit his lower lip.

"Well, I'm an incubus," he said. "As for my name…call me David."

"David," she sighed, her gaze staring off into space as if in a trance. "Why did you keep coming into my room? Was that you?"

"Yes, it was," he cooed.

"But I gave you no consent," Eleonora sighed, still in her trance of a sexual nature. "Does that mean you violated me?"

"No, darlin'. You gave your consent the moment you summoned me," David whispered, fondling her breasts a bit harder as he fed off her moans. "It ain't rape. I could tell that you liked it a _real _lot. Didn't you, sugar?"

"Oh, I've never felt such pleasure in all my years of living," the witch revealed.

"Hmm," David purred, reaching his other hand beneath the elastic band of her pajama bottoms; Eleonora gasped, whimpering in a pleading manner. "You know, most men're scared of women with obvious power. I'm turned on by it." He bucked his hips to her behind, and where she gasped at the sensation of a generous, throbbing bulge; as she was distracted, he reached down and began to manually pleasure the sides of her wet, slick folds.

"Oh my…ah!" she panted.

"Hmm…let me take your fear of love away. Let me take all your filters away," David begged, motioning her to the bed and bending her over as his fingers found her most sensitive nub, massaging it enough to nearly make her breath stop.

"Mm…do it," Eleonora whimpered. "I don't care how, just do it."

"Hm," the incubus purred, whispering in her ear cryptically as he bent her over completely. "What feels good comes with a cost. At the end of the day, I suppose it's just a matter of figurin' out how much you're willin' to pay."

The witch was suddenly nervous, turning her lustrous green eyes back at him.

"Don't worry," David continued. "I ain't gonna make you pay. Just bend over on all fours for me. C'mon, sugar, I can take it. _Let_ me take it."

**A/N:**

**The incubus has finally come! Well, let's see what kind of influences he will have not only over Eleonora but the coven as a whole, hm?**

**Thanks so much to **Weezy815**, **littlexkiller**, and a mystery Guest for leaving the first reviews on my story! **

**Please feel free to leave some feedback in a ****Review****, and be sure to ****Favorite ****and ****Follow****!**

**Stay tuned and happy reading! :3**


	4. Chapter 4

Misty arrived early the following morning with Clara and Amy, much to the delight of the Supreme and the rest of the council members. Julie was particularly happy because her sister in-law, skilled in the power of resurgence, was giving a lesson to the more powerful of the academy's pupils as promised during their lavish dinner just nights before. Julie received her nieces well, giving them hugs and kisses on the cheek, and while Misty spoke with her, Cordelia came into the atrium and offered to take the little girls out to the greenhouse.

"Ooh, flowers?" Amy asked, her large, intensely azure eyes looking up at the blind witch excitedly as she took her black, gloved hand. Her soft, golden curls seemed to bounce as she walked with her sister and Cordelia.

"Yes, little one," Cordelia smiled, using her Second Sight to navigate her way through the house as they passed a group of students with Eleonora leading them.

The witch noticed something very different about the blonde as she slinked by with the single-file line of young, powerful women and men; either it was her style of dress or her presence itself, but Eleonora seemed to radiated a different light from her being. She stood tall and confident, her lustrous, lush green eyes staring off into space fiercely as she stepped with abandon in sky-high black stilettos that seemed to match her shorter-than-average dark gray dress with ¾ sleeves and lace embroidery around the seemingly modest neckline and short hem of the dress' skirt. It was cinched at the waist with expert stitching and gingham-like dots evenly mottled the fabric. In the distance, Julie could notice the strangeness in Eleonora's presence as she spoke with Misty—what bothered her the most was that she only smiled at Clara and Amy, not even stopping to give them a hug and a kiss.

"Eleonora, I'm glad you could, uh, come," Julie said as she approached them with the line of students behind her. _Her hair is up_, she thought, _she never does that. And that lipstick..._ Her gray eyes focused on the intensity of her makeup, seeing the coral-pink lipstick and intense mascara that flaked in her eyelashes…_well, it's not too bad. I'm not one to talk about makeup_.

"Hello, Julie." Even Eleonora's tone was different; it was somewhat breathy and weary, but she had a strange normality to it; even Misty picked up on it and turned her head to the side, her voluminous, flaxen curls falling slightly to the side.

"Huh, are you feelin' okay?" she asked kindly with concern.

"I'm fine, Misty," Eleonora said with a smile that shined like a thousand suns.

"Are you sure?" Julie asked, looking at her suspiciously. "You look different. I can already tell right off the bat something happened to you."

"Oh, it's probably my hairstyle," Eleonora smiled, twisting her piled ponytail and adjusting her bangs. "I'm trying something new."

"But…" the Supreme trailed off unsurely, "what about your…" Her voice lowered to a whisper, "_scar_?"

"It isn't going to change at all," her younger sister. "Might as well accept it. It's going to be there forever."

"Well, then," Julie muttered. She proceeded to successfully change the subject even though she noticed an overwhelmingly red-orange aura surrounding her; "Misty has come to teach a resurgence lesson. You and her could teach it together, you know."

"Oh?" Eleonora asked, cocking an eyebrow up.

"Yeah, remember at dinner a couple nights ago?" Misty reminded with a smirk. "We was gonna teach the pupils a lesson on resurgence."

"Well, I have pupils behind me now," the newly-radiant blonde stated, looking back at them with a short glance. "We can teach _them_."

"Then, let's," Misty smiled, walking side by side with Eleonora as they ventured down the hall and to the courtyard beyond the great portrait of Julie as painted ten years before. In the meantime, Julie could've sworn she heard footsteps behind her—turning around with wandering eyes, she saw nothing.

* * *

"Wow, so…beautiful!" Clara exclaimed before her tone turned to a more disappointing one. "But…w-why's it so dark?"

The greenhouse was strangely dark with only one narrow, long rectangular window letting light in from the ceiling. The little girl's observant blue eyes noticed a covering bolted loosely to the ceiling made of hard aluminum. Moving her dark hair aside she saw empty pots full of fertilized soil and hanging globe lights suspended from the ceiling. There was an old, distressed green table with chipped paint and country-inspired legs. She moved closer, but the sound of her excited, squealing little sister caught her attention.

"Clara?" she heard Amy say. "Make somethin' grow!"

"Uh…" The dark-haired, older sister was at a loss for words as Cordelia's blind face faced her direction as if to look at her.

"What was that, little one?" _Thank gosh_, Clara thought, _she's talkin' to Amy_.

"Yeah, Clara can grow things," the little blonde beauty said, looking up at the witch with her large, intensely sparkling blue eyes. Cordelia proceeded to use her Second Sight to find the other of Misty's daughters.

When she did, she gasped at the sight—Clara had taken a tulip bulb and buried it in the soil of a small flower pot, taking the watering can and pouring it directly over the fresh mound of dirt before setting it aside back where she found it. Cordelia, holding Amy's small, petite hand, watched with her Second Sight as Clara concentrated enough to cause the tulip bulb to germinate, the stem gradually getting taller until it reached its maximum height; the flower bud gradually opened to reveal bright yellow petals as the leaves began to stick out of the green, strong stem. The young, dark-haired child looked back at her sister and Cordelia with a smile.

"That's what she's talkin' about," she finally said.

Cordelia was speechless, still holding Amy's small hand as she made her way over to the dark-haired young girl.

"Clara," she breathed with awe. "W-Where did you learn to do _that_?"

"You oughta see the garden at home," Amy cooed with a smile, "it's beautiful!"

"Well, it all kinda started in the garden at home," Clara began, taking her sister's words into account. "I was three n' a half, you see? Ma gave me somethin' to plant, and when I put it in the dirt and put water on it, it began to grow. I couldn't control it, you know. It just…happened."

"Does it entirely depend on putting seeds into dirt?" Cordelia asked, letting go of Amy and crouching slightly to meet the young brunette at eye level, her black-gloved hands on her small shoulders.

"No," the little girl answered.

Cordelia waited for an explanation, her Second Sight looking at her intensively.

"One time, I poked my finger with a thorn," the little girl continued, "and a drop of blood went on the dirt. I wasn't even thinkin' or tryin' to control anythin', but a…uh…what's that bright blue-purple flower called? It's kinda puffy, but really pretty?"

"Probably a…" Cordelia thought for a moment, "a phlox or an iris or an orchid…orchids can be like that, too, I suppose."

"Yeah, it was a real puffy flower," Clara continued. "But I remember now, I was thinkin' of the color blue."

"So, any color you think of, Clara?" Cordelia asked. "And it becomes a flower when you drop blood on the ground?"

"I…I think," the young girl said as Cordelia's hands got off her shoulders as she stood up straight, "I haven't done it in a long time. Maybe I could _try_? Got a needle?"

"A…_needle_?" the woman asked, looking at her strangely.

"Yup, I wanna bleed on the dirt," Clara said fearlessly. "Let's make this place beautiful. Maybe I should tell Aunt Julie that we's gotta take them coverin's off the cielin'? Ma says flowers'll die if they don't got sun."

* * *

Misty and Eleonora, who were a small distance away from the greenhouse, were conducting their lesson on resurgence by using dead moths, butterflies, garden mice, and snakes of the harmless variety. A few of the students were able to successfully resurrect between one and three of the dead samples in a consecutive fashion, even setting them free into nature upon their resurrection. To begin the lesson, however, the two witches demonstrated with a dead snake before doing a joint resurgence together on a garden mouse.

Halfway through the hour-long session, the voice of Amy accompanied with the sound of her running little feet against the grass caught the attention of the well-dressed pupils, as well as Eleonora and Misty.

"Mama?" she called out. "Look in the greenhouse!"

"Huh?"

"Come on! You gotta see what Clara did!" Amy said, running to her and pulling on her long, brown maxi skirt.

Misty fiddled with her daughter's soft blonde ringlets as a few of the pupils followed close behind Eleonora as she went with them. Upon entering the greenhouse, they saw Cordelia stand there with her jaw dropped, and the witches, together with the few pupils who followed them, gasped at a sight of beauty beyond epic proportions. There were flowers and plants grown to their peak; all species, all colors, and a mixture of lethal and harmless varieties. Misty, who owned a garden at home, giggled and smiled brightly at her daughter's doings, recognizing more common species including black-eyed susans, bluebells, catnip, hollyhocks, daisies, perennials, goldenrods, morning glories, lilies, and a plethora more besides a vine of hanging roses suspended from the ceiling. Cordelia, using her Second Sight, couldn't help but notice toxic, exotic varieties on another part of the greenhouse; the species included belladonna, blood lilies, African violets, hellebore, and even mistletoe, which hung between the suspended roses from the ceiling.

"I'll be damned," Misty whispered, with a giggle afterwards.

"It's _beautiful_," Eleonora whispered in awe, looking at Clara as she approached her.

"This place needed to be pretty," the brunette child said. "I _made_ it pretty."

"It's a wonderful job," Misty said, eyeing Amy in the corner touching the delicate, small petals of the colorful perennials. The pupils entered and looked around, amazed at the sight of the flourishing life within the greenhouse.

Suddenly, Eleonora turned her head to look at Cordelia, who leaned into Misty and began to whisper; she heard every word of their conversation as she gave Clara a hug of praise in her work and power.

"How long has she been able to do this?" Cordelia asked. "It's remarkable."

"She was three or so," Misty smiled.

"You never told _me_."

"I did, didn't I?" Misty asked.

"I don't remember," Cordelia said uncertainly.

"She does the same in our garden at home," the bohemian witch said quietly. "She_loves_ bein' in the garden."

"I'll bet," the older witch smiled. "And…uh…what about…" Cordelia's voice lowered to a silent whisper, but Eleonora could still overhear her as Clara latched onto her, "uh, Amy? Does _she_ have any powers?"

Eleonora glanced and saw Misty shake her head.

"Not that I know of," the bohemian witch answered. "She don't have any. If she's a late bloomer, as they say, I guess we'll have to find out in time."

Suddenly, Eleonora cut in and smiled at the physical results of her niece's spectacular gifts.

"You have a garden of earthly delights in here," she smiled. "It's beautiful, Clara."

"Aw, Aunt Eleonora, thank you," the girl answered.

"Maybe you can do the courtyard another day?" Cordelia suggested.

"Love to," Clara replied.

* * *

That night, after taking a steaming hot bubble bath scented with vanilla and rose, Eleonora redressed in her most comfortable casual clothing before going down to the ancestry room to see Julie with her silver-plated goblet. She was downing an alcoholic beverage of some sort as she sat ceremoniously with her legs crossed in the lounge chair in front of the fireplace.

"Eleonora?"

_She always knows when it's me_, she thought to herself.

"Uh, yeah?"

"I knew it was you," Julie sighed, downing more of her drink. "Did you just take a bath?"

"Yeah?" Eleonora said, taking a seat on the sofa as she looked at her white-haired sister. Julie turned her soulful gray eyes and pretty, youthful face to her sister, looking at her and seeing that the bright red-orange aura had faded to a murky blue. She took a deep breath, her eyes gazing at the flames as they danced in the hearth, consuming the wood arranged in there.

"How did resurgence go today?" the Supreme asked.

"It went well," her sister answered. "Little Clara suggests putting windows up in the greenhouse. Did you see what she did?"

"I did, indeed," Julie said, taking a sip from her goblet and scowling at the bittersweet taste. "Clara has quite a talent."

"I'm surprised Cordelia never was told," Eleonora said. "I heard them talking to each other, her and Misty."

"Mhm?"

"Well, Misty says Amy has no powers," the blonde replied, smoothing her damp blonde hair as she gathered it to one side.

"She's a late bloomer," Julie said calmly. "She _does_ have powers. They haven't awoken within her yet."

"How are you so sure, sis?" her younger sister questioned, leaning in as her lustrous green eyes stared at her curiously. Julie took another sip of her beverage and continued.

"Well, because from what I've seen, people born with powers normally show signs as babies or toddlers," Julie said. "I've known I can control ice for as long as I could remember. As far as I know, it's the same with Chase. I know her powers will come when the time is right."

"I can only imagine when," Eleonora said, shaking her head.

Suddenly, the blonde stood up and walked away from her seated sister, who was sipping contently on the last of her beverage in the silver-plated goblet. Just before she could reach the doorframe, she heard the serenity of the Supreme's kind voice cut through the silence and the crackling fireplace.

"Sis?"

"Yes?" Eleonora asked, turning around and looking at her.

"Are you feeling alright?" Julie asked. "You seemed a little different today."

"Hm, I feel alright," her sister said. "I'm going up to bed now."

"Are you sure? Are there any weird happenings I should know about?" Julie asked.

"N-No," Eleonora said, her hesitation barely evident. "Good night."

_Something is with that girl_, the Supreme thought as she slowly stood up from her seat and made her way to the fireplace, putting our her hand and focusing as she cryokinetically froze the fire to cease its burning.

* * *

When Eleonora opened her door, she gasped to see the bedroom lamp on and David, the incubus, laying back on her bed with one of his knees bent up in a suggestive manner.

"Ah—"

"Didn't expect to see me, sugar?" he purred. "I've been waitin' for you to come outta that bathtub. Hmm…" The handsome incubus sniffed the aroma in the air. "Vanilla and rose…I'm lovin' it."

Closing the door behind her, Eleonora was drawn to his magnetism and slowly neared him, mesmerized by his crystal clear, light blue eyes as he looked up at her from his place on her bed. He propped his elbow up and but the side of his head in his open palm. He was shirtless, also—he was magnificently sculpted, extraordinarily virile, a chest with an expanse of streamlined muscle and sinew tapering down to a taut, flat abdomen. She blushed, almost looking away before he sat up and got off the bed, approaching her slowly as his eyes wandered her physical features—from her straight light blonde hair to her verdant green eyes; from her gentle curves to her slender legs; he admired every part of her as he licked his lips with a burning need.

"I've always had a thing for blondes," he whispered, looking down into her eyes.

"Is that who you wanted to summon you?" Eleonora asked.

"_Pfft_," David squirmed, flicking his hand dismissively to the side. "I ain't never needed to be summoned. I just happened to fit your description."

"But _where_ did you come from? Are you actually just a ghost roaming the earth in search of their body?" the blonde witch asked.

"Sugar, sugar," he muttered. "If I told you that, I'd have to kill you."

"_Really_?" Eleonora asked with disbelief. "You can't be serious. If I summoned you, can't you just do what I ask?"

"It don't work like that, sugar."

"Then…uh…" Eleonora was cut off by David's booming, non-rhotic Southern accent.

"I'm a spirit, and like any other like me, I'm entitled to a kinda respect a mortal can't have," he stated. "I can only be commanded if I'm asked in a kindly manner. Otherwise, I do what I wish anytime I want."

_He's going to be the death of me_, she thought as she shook her head. Suddenly, she felt him tilt her chin up so his penetrating blue gaze could meet hers and smile.

_Tsk, tsk_, he sounded. "I ain't gonna be the death of you if you just show me some respect." He paused, seeing a fearful look in her eyes. "Hm, don't be 'fraid, darlin'. Ask of me what you would like."

_BUMP!_

The door burst open, and Eleonora gasped at the sight of her white-haired, icy-skinned sister staring in horror at the sight of David, in his physical, true form trying to romance her younger sister. Julie's jaw dropped, holding onto her protective talisman as the incubus approached her.

"E-Eleonora?" the Supreme asked in shock.

"Ma'am, I ain't here to cause trouble," David said.

"Who let you in here?!" she asked forcefully. "Eleonora? What the hell have you been—"

"I was summoned," he stated, interrupting her into silence. Julie secretly admired his sculpted, muscular body in his shirtless form. She took a breath, and David approached her upon noticing a faint blush streak her heart-round face.

"Hm, Julie, is it?" David asked.

_Yes_, she thought as she shook her head in shock.

_Hm, you're a telepath, too? _

_Yes_, she thought while looking up into his blue eyes, _but I prefer to use speech, thank you. I want to know that you are real_.

"Hm," he sighed. "Words, huh?"

"Yes," Julie said. "Who summoned you?" David was leaning in now, whispering to the Supreme as he looked into her gray eyes and admired her features.

"Y'all did," David began. "Let's see…_huge_? You said that in that lil' ritual you partook in."

"How do _you_ know? Are you omniscient?" Julie asked curiously, maintaining a calm tone.

"Hm, clever word to use, ma'am," David smiled. "I'm close to it. I ain't gotten as far as to officially call myself that, though."

"But what are you?" Julie asked.

"Hm, I'm an incubus, darlin'," he revealed.

Julie shot a look over at Eleonora, but was just then joined at the doorway by Zoe, Cordelia and Queenie, who stared into the room at David, who looked back at them and smiled, tipping his head as a gentlemen would as he approached them. His blonde summoner looked at him, but then she noticed the other witches admiring his strength and the tensile beauty of his exquisite musculature.

"Oh my _god_!" Zoe exclaimed. "Who are you?"

"He's just like in the spell we cast!" Queenie exclaimed, her voice becoming a desperate whine. "I have to say, I _love_ your eyes. So blue!"

"Who let you in here?" Cordelia asked.

"Said I was summoned. I'm an incubus," David replied. "It's lovely to make y'all's acquaintances."

"An _incubus_?" Cordelia asked in fear and shock.

"M-Maybe…uh…please," Julie offered, moving aside and gesturing him outside of the room. "Can you possibly come downstairs and tell us more about you? Please?"

"What's your name?" Zoe asked. "I'm married, but I'm curious. I can't help but say you're handsome."

"Name's David," he said, "and darlin', I'm _flattered_. It don't matter much to me that you've got yourself a man." His voice become a seductive purr as he gazed into her large, doe-like eyes. "I've snuck into the rooms of _many_ married women in my day."

* * *

The witches met down in the ancestry room, where David looked around as candles were lit by Zoe and Queenie. The dim light of the flames only accentuated his extraordinarily virile form as he seated himself, leaning back with his broad shoulders slouched in such a way that the witches couldn't help but have unclean thought about him. David gestured Eleonora to take the closest seat next to him, making her lean back and relax on his chest with his arms slinked around the front of her waist. She sighed and watched Julie, Queenie, Cordelia and Zoe take seats in the lounge chairs and sofa adjacent to them. However, David did not stay seated for long—Eleonora was the first to ask him questions.

"You said you would tell me more about yourself," she mentioned, "if I asked in a polite way."

"Indeed I did, darlin'," he purred, standing up and pacing back and forth in front of the crackling fireplace. "I only wanna answer the questions my summoner has for me, which is you, Eleonora."

"Please, can you answer our questions? Not just me, but if Julie, Zoe, Queenie and Cordelia have questions, _please_ answer them?" Eleonora pleaded.

David seemed reluctant, but he crossed his arms over his chest and gazed down at her, the fire from behind illuminating his form like a demon out of hell.

"Very well, darlin'," he agreed. "I ain't gonna say no to you." His eyes wandered among the witches, who ogled at his godly handsomeness. "So, ladies. Y'all got questions about me? Well, I'll answer 'em because Eleonora said I could. Please, ask me what y'all wanna know. One at a time, please. I can take it."

Eleonora raised her hand, setting the stage for the telling of his story; he held out his hand to her with a devilishly handsome smile that could light up a room.

"Yes, Eleonora?" he asked.

"First question is mine. Are you actually a ghost?" she asked.

"Oh, darlin'," he smirked. "I'm more than that."

* * *

**A/N:**

**I hope you guys enjoy the story so far! Next chapter will be a bit shocking and revealing but I think you can handle it, right? Suspense is my forte.**

**FUN FACT: **_David's (the incubus) accent is a non-rhotic Southern accent. With this version of the American Southern accent, the "r" is dropped. It is actually a historical accent that was mostly spoken up until the mid-20th century, when it began to slowly decline. That doesn't mean it's an extinct American dialect; it can still be found in states like South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama and Mississippi. _

**As you noticed, Clara indeed _does_ have a power; the power of growing things is called **_agrokinesis_**; this can range from flowering plants to fruit trees. Growth of flora in general, pretty much. As for little Amy, we don't know what she has yet! Stay tuned! **

**Please, kindly leave a ****Review****, ****Favorite ****and ****Follow****!**

**Thanks so much guys! :3**


	5. Chapter 5

**NOTE:** _This chapter is written mostly in __first-person__; __**David**__, the incubus, is sharing his story, hence the perspective._

Oh, darlin'. I'm more than that.

_"__Can you please tell us?" Eleonora asked, her green eyes fixed on the incubus in tandem with the unwavering gazes of the other witches._

What'd you like to know? I'll answer specific questions.

_"__Are you a demon?" Julie asked kindly, raising her hand like a schoolgirl in a classroom._

Indeed I am.

_"__But were you alive before?" Queenie questioned, admiring the crystal clear nature of his penetrating blue eyes. "Did you live a human life?"_

Yes to both those questions.

_As he snuck a glance over at Eleonora, entranced by his magnetic presence, he saw her raise her hand. "Please tell me how old you were when you died?"_

Twenty-three.

_"__What year did you die?" Julie asked, her gray eyes fixed on him in a trance-like state as she ruffled her voluminous ice-blonde hair._

1985.

_"__Can you tell us more about you?" Zoe asked, her large, brown doe eyes looking up at him dumbfounded by his extraordinary shirtless physique. David's eyes peered at her, penetrating her soul and drawing her into a form of spiritual stupor._

Ma'am, be specific. What do you wanna know 'bout me?

_"__Your life," Zoe said, correcting herself. "Tell us more about your life, please."_

Very well, ma'am.

I was born David Charles Loring on March 22, 1962 in a small town in South Carolina. My father owned a plantation, but we was of old blood money; we was of Scotch-Irish descent. My mama died when I was a baby. Rest her soul, I only seen her in pictures. Maids helped my dad out when he couldn't be with me. When I was three, my dad spent more time with me.

He wasn't the best dad on two legs, but he was still my dad. He was a fundamentalist Christian. He'd read me the Bible at bedtime so I'd know it by time I was full grown. Stories like the Creation, David n' Goliath, the Exodus, the Temptation of Christ, The Last Supper, the Crucifixion; they all became the stories I'd come to know by heart as years went by durin' my short life.

There were lots of 'thou shalt nots' in my childhood. If I even so much as said 'oh my god', my dad put me over 'is knee and belted me, rattlin' off a bunch o' verses and proverbs 'bout obedience to God and respect for Jesus. I was just wee, I didn't understand what he meant. All I did was cry as my bottom 'came red.

_"__You were abused?" Eleonora asked with shock._

Sorta. Lookin' back, I guess I kinda was abused. I remember he'd rattle off Bible verses whenever he didn't approve of what I done as a kid. Even if I stacked my plate full o'food, he'd call me out on it.

"Proverbs. 25:16," he told me once. "If you have found honey, eat only enough for you, lest you have your fill of it and vomit it."

Made me puke up my food once for eatin' too much. I was six or so. It was right after a revival at our church.

_"__Oh my _god_," Julie whined, nearly crying from the testimony of his life. "That's brutal! How could have done such a thing? And you were so young, too."_

I know, ma'am. But that was my dad, that's what he often done.

Even when he and I argued 'bout stupid things, he'd rattle off them verses. He didn't even need his Bible; he knew it like the back of his own hand. Like it was his own baby. Like he was the one who wrote it. He did carry a mini one everywhere, even to church. We went every Sunday, come hell or high water. Even if I was dyin' with the flu, he'd take me with 'im.

"The word of the Lord will help you," he told me once; I really did have the flu. I was pukin' my belly to oblivion. "Lord Jesus will send His healin' hands down on you, son."

_"__You never saw a doctor?" Queenie questioned, looking at his physical spirit strangely._

My dad didn't believe in no doctors. There weren't really any doctors in Barnwell. That was my town I grew up in. Very small lil' farmin' town. He thought God healed, not doctors. I remember his stupid-ass justification. I heard him tell the maid this once.

"A doctor? He ain't needin' no doctor. Doctors are the devil," I heard him say—I was in bed when I had the flu. I remember I was twelve. "The Lord and Savior is the only doctor he'll ever need. Remember this. Mark 2:17. And when Jesus heard it, he said to them, 'those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. I came not to call the righteous, but sinners.'"

_"__How extreme," Eleonora muttered._

Eh, don't let my upbringin' fool you. _He flicked his had dismissively to the side_. I thought I was bein' a good son all the time. I got older, did as I was told, went to church, went to revivals, played football startin' my freshman year of high school, never really cursed like my peers did, tried getting' good grades. I tried to impress my dad so he wouldn't think so bad or less of me anymore. I had few friends; four quarters was better'n a hundred pennies. Of course, there was always my dad rattlin' off verses to prevent me from datin' or bein' with girls before bein' married.

_"__Did you ever date anyone?" Cordelia asked curiously. "At all?"_

Oh, I was close, ma'am. I was seventeen when my life changed forever.

_"__What happened to you?" Eleonora asked, looking at him curiously._

I had met the most beautiful girl I had ever seen.

_"__What's so bad about that?" Cordelia asked, using her Second Sight to see the incubus in his shadow and physical forms as it fluctuated before only her._

Oh, it wasn't bad.

_"__What was her name?" Eleonora asked._

Elina. _David sighed, his blue eyes staring off into space._ Elina Darling.

_The witches watched and heard observantly as David took in a sharp sigh, his breath sounding more like a harsh, urgent rush of ecstasy._

Elina…

_The feminine-sounding name became a passionate hiss. Eleonora looked at Zoe, who stared back before they looked at the incubus in his moment of ragged gasps and closed eyes. _

_"__Who was she?" Zoe asked._

The most beautiful girl I had ever seen in my entire life. I first seen her in a farmer's market. She was the daughter of a farmer of lesser means than my family was. _He sighed breathily, a distant look in his eyes_. I'll never forget her. Her hair was long and wavy, so blonde it looked white, like the moon. She had a face lookin' like God Himself created her. Her skin was fair and smooth like marble, and her eyes were like fire. They were almost an amber color. Very intense, but very warm. To look into them was an honor, but they burned right through me like a roarin' inferno. I glanced at her in passin' from afar and stopped to admire her—she was like the pure virgin princess from a fairy tale. It was love at first sight.

I even stopped by a flower stall to grab a rose, the best I could find; it was light pink. After payin' the lady, I stood around waitin' to see the lil' beauty again—I did in due time. She was walkin' down the aisles of farmer's stalls when I saw her again, and she was with this ugly girl. I think it was her friend. Bein' brought up by a dad like mine, I didn't really know how to approach a girl, but I used my better judgment by rememberin' what the guys in the locker room said about girls and theirs. I approached her anyways, holding the rose in my hand as I saw the ugly, mousey one looking at pointing.

"He's so cute!" I heard her say. It was the one with really light blonde hair that caught my attention, so I kept my eyes fixed on that 'til the lil' beauty turned to look at me. Surprisin'ly, I was far from nervous even as her eyes burnt up at me for the first time. I was calm 'n collected. I smiled at her, handin' her the rose.

"Elina Darling, is it?" I asked. Her eyes widened only slightly, parting her lips.

"How did you know?" she asked me. I gave my response.

"I saw you at the Darling Farm stall an hour ago. I walked by. I know it sounds crazy, but I couldn't help but admire you from afar."

She was silent—her amber eyes burning up at me and inciting a foreign feeling within me. By golly, it made me hard in my jeans.

_The witches continued to listen to him; Eleonora tried to process the features he described, feeling some type of connection already as he continued his story._

So I introduced myself and gave her the rose, which she took—suddenly, I saw her wince. A thorn pricked her finger and made it bleed. Her friend freaked out, and I took the rose and out came my pocket knife. I scraped off the thorn and gave it back to her; this time, she took it to her nose and sniffed it.

"Thank you," she said, her soft voice sweet as sunlight.

Soon, I had both girls on my arm—I didn't want for the mousey one to be with us. She was more like a third wheel. Elina was the angel God sent me. I needed the time with _her_. As we walked, I noticed how beautiful she was up close—hm, she was dressed modestly like a good Christian girl, but I couldn't help but notice she had a full bosom and a thin waist. The feelin's inside made me long to hold her close, feelin' her all pressed up against me. Some may've called it lust—I called it love.

"How come I ain't seen you around before today?" I asked, still with the beautiful girl on my arm. She looked up at me with those fiery eyes.

"I go to school." I expected more of an answer just to hear that sweet voice. I told her I'd been a senior and was gonna graduate that year—class of 1980. When she told me she was thirteen, I was shocked but didn't take it to heart; I was still in love, younger'n me or not.

"Aw, you're just a wee babe," I told her.

She didn't take it as a joke, so just looked at me like I had thirty heads.

"I mean that in a good way, miss. Y-You're pure," I said, justifyin' what I said to her. She looked so innocent and beautiful. It was hard to believe someone like her could be unclean and impure. However, at that moment, I realized she had a sharp tongue that slashed like a blade at my heart.

"Don't call me that," she said coldly. "Please." I found myself thinkin' aloud, voicin' my thoughts clear as day without effort.

"You're cold on the outside, but you got a fire within," I said softly, lookin' down into her eyes and movin' a little closer to her.

When she didn't answer, I started conversation about her brother on my football team at school. It didn't last though—her family's farm stand was nearby and I saw her daddy lookin' at me like he was 'bout to stab me.

I even tried introducin' myself like a gentleman and her father snatched her away from me like he owned her. I met her mama, though—she was nice, also lovely, but not as beautiful as her daughter. She was from Sweden, as I had heard—"Mrs. Darlin's from Sweden."

_Sweden__—__Eleonora and Julie peered at each other and then at David, who focused on them and delved into their thoughts, sensing exactly what their thoughts were. He remained silent and continued, but Julie looked at him and caught his attention._

Yes, ma'am?

_"__How did she change your life?" the white-haired Supreme asked._

I seen her a couple times after that; I even got that mousey friend of hers to get her to hang out in the heart o'town; even then, Elina spat her venom only to hypnotize me to the point where I feel even deeper in love; she told me her father had been overbearing and not lettin' her see boys. If I had a daughter as beautiful as she, I would be the same way.

After that day, I began to satisfy the burning in my loins. It was my first rush of ecstasy leading to a white-hot climax. Just moaning her name to myself durin' the act made me hard as I pictured her every time I made myself release.

Eventually, my dad caught me and per usual, he was rattlin' off verses from the Bible about sinning against God. Elina was no sin—she was virtue.

Valentine's night, I even stopped by her house and tossed stones up at her window. When she came to open the windows, she looked down at me in shock. With messy bed-hair and her fiery, sharp blade of a tongue tellin' me to leave, she was still beautiful. In my hands, I had a rose and a folded paper with a poem. I still remember what it said, wrote it myself. I gave her the rose, and she bled again from a thorn I overlooked. I read it to her, and I saw her lower-lip-bitin' as a signal to kiss her. It was my first kiss with a girl—it was special. The way she pressed against me, the way she felt in my arms; I felt like I was gonna lose control of my desires.

I felt a searin', burnin' pain where her hands were, they were on my shoulders. When she finally pushed me away, I saw she burned holes in my shirt and through my skin.

I had been bewitched by her beauty…to find out she was a witch.

_Eleonora, Zoe, Julie, Cordelia and Queenie looked up at him, dumbfounded by his story. Eleonora wished he would get to the point already._

She hadn't meant it—I was shocked and scared. She took me in, riskin' trouble with her daddy, and tended to me. She sat me down, dabbing a cold cloth on my second-degree burns. They were shaped like handprints.

"Handprints," I muttered quietly. "How'd you burn me?"

"It's a long story," she told me; her eyes were focused on my burns.

"I must be crazy. Are you a witch?" I asked curiously.

"No," Elina told me. "I'm a Christian."

"But you burned me somehow."

"And I'm trying to fix what I did," she answered; with each dab, it was painful and I winced. Her face, beautiful and angelic, was my savior from the agony.

"So you _did _burn me?" I asked. "How?"

"I…" She paused; I heard a sigh escape her lips. "I was born with it."

I couldn't believe my ears—"what?" That was all I could say. She looked at me, piercing me with those amber-hazel eyes.

"I was born with…the power to…create and…control fire," she stammered, trying to explain it.

For a moment, I turned into my bible-thumpin' dad.

"But I am afraid that just as Eve was deceived by the serpent's cunning, your minds may somehow be led astray from your sincere and pure devotion to Christ."

Then she argued and said it wasn't Sunday.

"You're the devil in the form of a woman." I couldn't believe what I was saying to this beautiful, bewitchin' girl I had fallen in love with.

"No, I'm not," she replied. "I'm a person. Just like you."

"Yet," I began, "you have bewitched me. I can't be one of God's children if I've fallen under your spell, Elina. In that case, teach me about your powers."

She was in shock, and told me why she couldn't. I thought bein' born with powers would make it easier to teach. I guess not. She continued on, tellin' me to leave before her daddy shot me.

"I'd rather lay dyin'," I told her. I didn't wanna leave her—I loved her. I took her face in my hand and caressed it. My, her skin was smooth.

Then she showed me somethin'—within minutes, my burns healed. It was a miracle—Elina really was God's gift to me for bein' a faithful Christian, witch or not. There was white light comin' from her hands and it healed me right up.

I had promised her never to tell anyone of her powers. Barnwell was a God-fearin' town; I didn't wanna see her tied up and burnt at stake.

It awoken a thirst for knowledge in me—I bought several books on the occult so I could develop powers. I read them in secret until the time came for me to leave for college.

Before that, Elina's mama died unexpectedly—I was there at the funeral to pay my respects. Mr. Darling was out of it; he didn't pay any mind to the fact I was holdin' his cryin' daughter.

_"__So what happened after? Y-You went to college?" Julie asked._

Yup. A private, elite university. My dad picked it for me. It was a Christian college. Lots of young fundie folk went there, includin' me. I wasn't so much a fundie after that night I found Elina to be a witch, considerin' I'd been readin' on magick and sorcery. I kept books hidden in my metal file chest in my dorm. From my readin', I learned that pleasure was a good thing. Pleasure cannot be self-denied. It can't be constrained like pastors tell you to do. It's gotta be set free. I set mine free, for sure.

_"__How?" Eleonora asked with confusion. "If you were in a big Christian college, how did you…uh, you know…experience the pleasures you had denied yourself?"_

The ladies loved me.

Just a simple attraction spell after I developed clairvoyance and that's all it took. I lost my virginity to the campus "whore", they called her. I've hated that word since I died.

_"__But you loved this other girl so much," Zoe muttered. "Why didn't you lose it to her instead?"_

Because she was so young. Unattainable, they'd say. Her daddy'd rip my balls off if he found out I filled her belly with my baby. Plus, I was so far, too. I was in Georgia for college. I planned to come back to Barnwell with my college grad image in order to get her daddy to let me marry her.

I wore lots of black; I was not liked by the male students, but the ladies loved me. I was a handsome, powerful son'm bitch. I didn't wear my cross; I wore a pentagram beneath by shirts. I was a full-fledged warlock.

_The witches looked at each other, slight chatter among them upon hearing that word._

_"__Are you looking for admission into our academy?" Cordelia asked. "If so, I'm afraid we can't grant you it because you are dead. Speaking of which, how did you die?"_

I don't want admission. What'd be the point?

I remember when my dad found out about my hidden life, practicin' magick and all that. I was in my second year of college; I was twenty, a grown man. I remember 'im hittin' me with his Bible as he tossed the occult books he found in the fire. I'd been sittin' in the parlor while home for the holidays.

"First, you have lust for that freakishly beautiful girl, and now _this_?!" he barked. "I raised you to be god-_fearin_', David! I even did the Lord justice by namin' you after one of the biblical heroes!"

"Dad, I'm a grown man now," I remember saying to him. He hit me again with his Bible, thumping by shoulder; it really hurt me, actually.

"That don't mean _diddly-squat_! I'm a grown man, too, but we's _all_ children in the eyes of the Lord!" my father screamed. "Practicin' black magic! Necromancy! _Sorcery_! The Lord only knows what else you been doin' at school while you's been away!"

Just when I was about to stand up and leave the room, my father pushed me back on the sofa; I felt like I was in church with a ball-of-fire preacher, and I was his unwillin' congregation.

"You was out late in the night two years ago, sinner?" he asked me, opening the pages of our large household Bible. "Fornicatin'? Only Lord knows what else you been doin' with that little witch?!"

"Stop it! I DID NOT fornicate with ANYONE!" I screamed.

"What's it to _you_? Are you God, all of a sudden?" I asked, biting my lower lip.

"You was seein' that lil' _devil woman_ with her long blonde hair and her _hell_fire eyes! You been deceived by Satan, son! Eve was made by Adam's rib! She was vulnerable to the devil's evil! That girl_ is_ the devil's evil!" he shouted.

"No!" I shouted, standing to my feet. "She ain't evil! She's my blessin' from God! When I get outta school, I's gonna marry her!" I was dead serious as the room grew silent. Then he rattled off his proverbs, flippin' through his Bible as he circled me.

"Isaiah 1:2," he started; I rolled my eyes; "Hear, O heavens! Listen, O earth! For the Lord has spoken: 'I reared children and brought them up, but _they _have _rebelled _against me!'"

"Dad, stop it!" I shouted. "You can't hide behind that Bible forever!"

"Leviticus 20:27," he continued, disregardin' me. "A man also or woman that hath a familiar spirit, or that is a wizard, shall surely be put to death: they shall stone them with stones: their blood shall be upon them."

"No blood will be upon anyone!" I shouted.

"Chronicles 33:6! Oh, now we's gon' get you to repent!" my father shouted, soundin' like a crazy fanatical lunatic. "And he caused his children to pass through the fire in the valley of the son of Hinnom: also he observed times, and used enchantments, and used witchcraft, and dealt with a familiar spirit, and with wizards: he wrought much evil in the sight of the Lord to provoke him to anger!"

"Shut up," I muttered.

When I left the room, I heard him followin' me down the hall, his Bible still in his hand as he tried getting' me to listen to the same scripture I'd been hearin' over and over.

"Corinthians! 11:14!" I heard him scream at the top of his lungs as I refused to listen. "And no marvel; for Satan himself is transformed into an angel of light! That freakish daughter of Mr. Darlin' is Satan in the form of an angel! Remember when Eve ate that apple? She bit it, and man was damned…"

I walked into the bathroom, and when I tried to shut the door, he put his foot in it to stop me from doin' so; I concentrated, lookin' at my father with such a look as I struggled.

"Idolatry! Witchcraft! HATRED! Variance, emulations, WRATH! Strife, seditions, HERESIES!…"

**_BANG!_**

I slammed the door with my mind; quite remarkable really.

My stepmama was a two-headed lady; conjoined twins—I learned that Elina caused him a broken leg when he bombarded her with the same bullshit he done me. It was the weaker twin's funeral when they were separated.

I saw him in the hospital, even visited the crazed fool with his leg up in the swing and his cast. He was on pain meds; I guess God wasn't helpin' him now.

"Son," he said. "You cursed me! Makin' that lil' _devil woman_ break my leg! Tossed me in midair with her witch powers and landed in a pond the wrong way! She's a _WITCH_! I tell you! You've rebelled against God, son! Christ died for your sins!"

"And now, he's payin' you for yours," I muttered, finally leaving the room.

That was the last time I saw him—ever.

_"__How did you die?" Eleonora asked, repeating Cordelia's question._

Car wreck. Spring break 1985. I was only twenty-three. Everyone else in the car died as well. We crashed and tumbled. My body was crushed.

My soul ascended to Heaven; I was very shocked, bein' a Christian a big part of my life. The angels rejected me.

Even the demons down in hell rejected me.

My soul was in limbo.

Yet a demoness from hell offered me an opportunity I couldn't refuse. She was a succubus, the female counterpart of my kind.

"Spend three nights in purgatory with me," she had told me; she was deathly beautiful, but, _his voice became a whisper_, not as beautiful as Elina, "and I will give you all-seeing powers and a purpose on earth."

I agreed—the college girls I slept with had nothin' on the succubus' pure seduction and the devilish pleasure she'd given me. She even bit my neck as she mounted me from the top.

That's when I became a demon; the incubus you see before you now.

* * *

The witches all looked at each other, believing his story to be dumbfoundingly believable. After all, they knew the mystic workings of the world, and they turned their eyes up to him. Eleonora looked up at him, and he walked slightly closer as he admired her features with a cheeky, seductive smile. Julie, licked her lips nervously, staring over at Cordelia, and then to her sister, a dumbstruck Zoe, and a shocked Queenie. The blonde witch with bangs, however, was not done asking questions.

"What did you do since dying?" she asked.

"Darlin', I've done so much," David replied. "I've entered more women 'n girls whilst sleepin' that I've lost count of my doin's. It was my lust of the blood while alive that made heaven_and_ hell reject me. All those demons rejected one of their kind." The spirit in his physical form sighed. "_Insanity_, I tell you, 'specially since most of the ones I lain with died by morning. Many a husband has woken up to a dead wife because of me."

"So you've _killed_?" Queenie asked in shock.

"That's how incubi survive," David said, his voice the same seductive, but casual purr that had drawn them into listening. "Feedin' off the life force by the pleasures of the flesh."

"But why isn't Eleonora dead?" the obese, ebony witch asked in shock, pointing at her fellow council member and witch.

"It's the connection we have that I ain't ever gonna hurt her," David promised.

"Connection?" Eleonora asked with confusion; she wanted answers, no more of his trivial, cryptic speech. "I don't understand."

The incubus knelt before the seated witch, on his knees as his warm, almost ghostly hands held hers. His eyes were enigmatic, penetrating, mesmerizing—the witch was hypnotized by the one she unwittingly summoned, and he began to speak clearly; she could not believe his words.

"Durin' the spell you cast to summon me, you binded yourself to me by prickin' your finger on the thorn of that rose and lettin' yourself bleed on the list of traits. I not only fit that description you wrote, but that blood…was Elina's blood," he explained, nodding. "She was your mother."

"No, she wasn't," Eleonora said. "My mother's name was Helen."

"No, Ellie-girl." He was starting to sound coy—Cordelia, remembering Eleonora's mother as a witch that had been the epitome of evil who severely abused her powers for her own selfish needs, gasped and looked at the incubus.

"I loved your mama. She changed her name, you know. I watched over her and even found out everythin' after I was given near-omniscience by the succubus who changed me." He then pointed to Julie, who stared at him long and hard as he spoke his next sentence; "see your sister? She _and_ your brother, _her twin_, were born of an incestuous union 'tween your mother and _her_ _father_."

"I was aware of that," Julie said. "I'm shocked you know. Then again, you said you're omniscient, so who am _I _to judge?"

David glanced over at her silently; there was a resentful glare in his eyes toward the Supreme.

Eleonora could not hear any more of the incubus' allegations about her dead mother's identity; in a depressed rage, she left the room and pounded her feet lightly up the grand staircase and to her bedroom. David managed to transmutate in order to meet her as soon as she opened the door, and she gasped, collapsing to her knees and beginning to sob as he looked at her; he was remorseless for telling her the truth, and he continued to peer down at her as she wailed into her hands.

"Leave!" she cried, sensing his presence. "I don't want to know anymore!"

He then crouched and patted her back, attempting to hold her close—still, he was unemotional.

"I can't just leave, and I ain't gonna," David crooned, trying to console her. "You wanted to know truth? I gave you truth."

"But why?" Eleonora asked frantically. "I don't understand _any_ of this!"

"_Sh_," he whispered. "Get rest."

"But I—"

"Get some rest. I insist," he said a bit more forcefully, hands on her shoulders as she rose to her feet without his help. David helped her to her bed, pulling down the covers and gesturing her into it, putting them back over her as he peered down at her.

"I know it don't make sense," he told her in a whisper as he kissed the wispy blonde fringe covering her forehead. "You gotta believe me. I was connected the instant you dropped that blood on the paper. When it burnt, it increased. You're the daughter of the great love of my life, and for that, I will love _you_, too."

**A/N:**

**Eleonora x David have kind of a Tate x Violet relationship, if you get the ****_AHS: Murder House_****reference. Tehe~**

**I hope his past and language use wasn't too shocking! **

**Please leave a Review, Follow and Favorite!**

**Thanks so much and happy reading! :3**

**Stay tuned for the next chapter!**


	6. Chapter 6

Misty had risen early the next morning to prepare breakfast for her daughters and husband; she had planned on serving her famous homemade pancakes with sides of bacon and eggs. The small, portable radio she had brought in from the master bedroom was playing music by her all-time favorite band, _Fleetwood Mac_. She sung along as the bacon sizzled in the skillet, using a spatula to flip and move them as necessary:

_"__Now here I go again, I see crystal visions  
I keep my visions to myself  
It's only me  
Who wants to wrap around your dreams and...  
Have you any dreams you'd like to sell?  
Dreams of loneliness,  
Like a heartbeat drives you mad...  
In the stillness of remembering what you had..."_

Suddenly, the sound of small and large footsteps came to her ears as she turned to see Chase, backed by Clara and Amy in their flowery nightgowns, with a huge grin on his face at the aroma of crisp maple bacon, buttery eggs and buttermilk pancakes. Misty, seeing they were done, put the pancakes on a serving plate in stacks and putting them on the table. Meanwhile, Clara and Amy wearily made their ways to their seats and sat, gathering enough pancakes to make full stacks as Chase went over to his wife, giving her a tight hug from behind.

"Good morning," he cooed.

"Mornin', love," Misty giggled with a girlish blush.

"I love you," he said, planting a kiss on her cheek.

"You must be hungry," she said.

"Yes, I am hungry, Misty," he said with a childlike smile.

"Alright, go sit over at the table. Bacon's almost done."

The music kept playing all through breakfast. Clara and Amy, as well as their father, were used to the talent of Stevie Nicks and the hit songs she had produced with the band. Little Amy remembered her mother giving her one of her black floral shawl to borrow while spinning endlessly in a circle to_Gypsy_ in the garden beautified by Clara—Misty did not have a favorite song because she loved all of the band's music. Spinning at different speeds had been her favorite dance move.

"It's all good, girls?" she asked her daughters before sipping her apple juice.

"Yeah," Clara said.

"I love it, Misty," Chase said, reaching over with his deformed hand and patting her forearm; his wife just giggled.

"Eat up," she said calmly. "Enjoy. Maybe we can visit your aunts today?"

"Yay," Chase said excitedly under a short breath with a mouthful of food. "I want to see Julie and everyone."

"Can we, mama?" Amy asked, her large, striking blue eyes staring over at her mother.

"We can," Misty replied with a smile as she devoured her eggs. "Aunt Julie loves seein' you girls."

"She loves seeing me, too, because I'm her brother," Chase smiled, giggling like a child.

There was a silence, nothing but the sounds of chewing and drinking of fruit juice. Misty listened to the lyrics of the next track, closing her eyes as she swayed her head to the melody, taking a bite of food from her plate and washing it down with apple juice as she listened closely:

"_If I live to see the seven wonders  
I'll make a path to the rainbow's end  
I'll never live to match the beauty again  
The rainbow's end…_"

Her daughters looked back at her; Amy sipped on her tangy orange juice.

"Stevie Nicks is a white witch," Misty suddenly said. "The only witch I've ever known for the whole of my life."

"The girl singin' is a witch, mama?" Amy asked.

"Listen to the lyrics," her mother ordered gently, reaching to touch her youngest daughter's small hand. "Doesn't it just penetrate your soul and tell the truth about everythin' you ever felt in your whole life?"

The little girls listened, but Clara paid extra-special attention and smiled at her mother, looking at her curling, voluminous flaxen hair and the strange, intricate layered necklaces hanging from her neck. She was wearing a beige maxi dress with black, faux-leather lacing on the sides with a black ribbon at the neckline; it was loose-fitting, per usual and reached her ankles. Her shoes consisted of simple ankle boots, and around her shoulders was a white fringy shawl. Her eyes shined blue, much like those of her daughters', and her face was earthy and ethereal. She smiled again, and they finished eating before getting dressed and ready.

* * *

When the small family arrived at the academy, they passed Zoe fronting a single-file line composed of the less-powerful pupils who had yet to develop their abilities to their full potential. The witch was dressed in a black button-up blouse with a coordinating dark gray skirt, black hose and flat boots. On her head was one of the usual selections from her hat collection—a wide-brimmed raven hat with a fedora-like indent at the peak. Her beautiful, soft face looked to Misty and Chase as she waved cordially at them.

"Good morning, family," she smiled.

"Mornin', Zoe," Misty said. "We just came to visit. Where're you headed to?"

"Out to town," the witch answered. "We're going on a field trip."

"Have fun," Chase said. "We hope you come back in a little bit."

"We'll be back," Zoe replied kindly. "In a couple hours."

Bowing her head in a quick nod motion, she pressed on with the well-dressed pupils and went through the gate's grand entrance before Misty, Chase and their two daughters went up the stairs and rung the doorbell. It was only a few moments in passing that Kyle, the butler, answered the door.

"Oh, Misty," he said with a smile. "Come in."

When they entered, they saw Eleonora walking by only to look at them with her lustrous green eyes. Her long, straight light blonde hair was down, and her fringe was swept fashionably to the side. As she smiled, the children looked at her outfit choice—a raven-colored skirt suit with a peplum blazer and a small, pleather belt cinching the waist. Her hose was black, as were her shiny black stilettos. Misty noticed her excessive amount of black clothing and watched as Eleonora welcomed her nieces into her arms, giving them kisses on the cheek. _She hates black_, she thought to herself.

"Hello, guys," she said.

"Hi, auntie," little Amy cooed, her beautiful face looking up at her aunt as she let them go.

"Hey, Aunt Eleonora," Clara said with a smile.

"How are my little lovelies?" their aunt asked.

"I'm ok," the older one said.

"We came to visit you and Aunt Julie," Amy smiled.

"She's in the headmistress' office," Eleonora smiled. "Let's go."

The office was small with stark white walls and mahogany furniture. A potted plant was near the laptop Julie had been typing on, recording the progress of the students in a word document that served as a diary of some sort. Upon hearing the door open, she looked back and smiled at the presence of her nieces, who ran over to her to be welcomed into the Supreme's arms.

"Aw, my little beauties came to see me!" she laughed, kissing each girl on the cheek. "How are you, darling?"

"I'm ok," Clara said. Amy kept holding onto her aunt, resting her small chin on her shoulder. Her hand reached to touch the silver Thor's Hammer amulet that hung from her aunt among several other pendants. Julie smiled down at her niece and put her cold hand on top of Amy's small one, making her shiver.

"You're cold," the little girl said with a shiver.

"But I'm warm to the core," Julie smiled. "Know what this is?"

"Mjollnir?" Amy guessed.

"Aw, you remembered!" the Supreme smiled, kissing the little girl's cheek. "Do you want to hear a story?"

Chase, Misty, and Eleonora smiled and backed out into the hallway, engaged in their own conversation as they heard Julie reciting a story to the two enthusiastic little girls. Misty was fixed on her sister in-law's outfit choice.

"I never seen you wearin' _all_ black before," she said. "Is this somethin' new?"

"Eh, just felt like wearing black, I guess," Eleonora said. However, she remembered the night before when David shared his story—he was a ghost, then a fallen angel, then an incubus—_"__I wore all black," _she remembered him saying.

"You've worn black with white or gray, I've seen," Misty said, peering into the office to hear Julie describing the mythological origins of Thor's Hammer. The little girls were engaged and fully listening with great, large eyes and enthusiastic minds.

"…Loki made it to Asgard with the dwarves and presented the gifts created for them. Sif's new hair and the hammer Mjollnir was given to Thor and his wife. Odin, the all-Father, was given the ring Draupnir and the spear Gungnir."

"What do dwarves look like, auntie?" Amy asked. "Have you seen one?"

"Only in trance, my little beauty," Julie smiled. "They're little people. They're adult, but your size."

"I want to see a dwarf!" Clara exclaimed with a bright grin.

"Keep your eyes peeled the next time you visit the swamp with your mother," the Supreme said with a grin. "You may see one running by. They're quick and make lots of mischief."

"I think they'd be _so _cute!" Clara squealed. "Do they have powers like me? Can they grow things?"

"Hm, they do have powers, but not like we do, sweetie," Julie explained, adjusting the top of her dark purple peasant blouse that had a tie at the middle of the neckline.

Suddenly, there was a sad expression on Amy's beautiful, young face. Looking down at her aunt's smooth black skirt, she sighed and pouted; her small, soft pink lips pursed downward, and her intense cerulean eyes looked emotionless. She was always such a happy child, but when Chase noticed, he walked back into the office and crouched down at eye level. He raised one of his cleft hands up to his small daughter and gently stroked her forearm.

"Amy?" he asked. "Why are you sad?"

"Oh, Amy," Julie said with concern, finally noticing after being distracted by Clara's curiosity about dwarves. "Are you alright?"

"I'm sad b-because…Clara has powers, you have powers, daddy has powers, mama has powers, other auntie has powers…but I don't have any," she whined morosely.

Julie, tuning into the girl's thoughts and applying them to her own theories about Amy's powerlessness, began to empathize with her. _People often display powers as babies_, she thought, _at least from what I've seen. I really hope she is a late bloomer. Better late than never_. Feeling a tear roll out of her eye only to be frozen against her skin, she looked down at her exquisitely beautiful, blonde niece and ran her cold, long fingers through her curls.

"Amy, sweetie," she whispered. "You don't have to be sad."

"But I wanna be just like _you_, auntie!" Amy exclaimed with a sad cry. "I wanna be like you. I wanna make ice and do magick and cast spells and—"

"Amy," Julie sighed, "you're just a child. You…will develop them later, I c-can promise you that."

Chase's deformed hand rested on his daughter's back, his split palm wedged over the curve of her tiny spinal bones poking through her fair skin.

"Amy, you're special," he said, mimicking what Julie had told him over and over to boost his self-esteem. "Even if you don't have powers, I still love you."

"But I wanna be a witch, too!" Amy whined. "No fair."

_You don't want to be a witch, kid_, Eleonora thought, _you have no clue what it's like_.

"Aw, Amy. You will," Julie said, holding her close as she sat in her lap; her cold fingers still ran through the soft, gold ringlets that cascaded down her small head. "Patience is a virtue, my little friend."

Suddenly, Queenie, her obese form wearing a black tank top with a rib cage appliqué, bell-bottom jeans, ballet flats, and her thick, coarse hair tied back with an ascot, stood in the doorway near Misty and Eleonora. The two blonde witches looked at their fellow council member, and as the black woman looked into the headmistress' office, Clara smiled over at her upon noticing her presence.

"Hello, Miss Queenie!" she exclaimed, running over to give her a big, hearty hug. Queenie bent down and groaned affectionately as she returned the girl's embrace and looked at her.

"How are you, Clara?" she asked casually.

"I'm ok," the girl replied.

"I found some ice cream in the freezer," Queenie smiled.

Suddenly, Amy, Clara and Chase's eyes all widened—Queenie looked at the grown man and shook her head nonchalantly as she laughed.

"Ice cream!" the little blonde beauty squealed.

"I want some!" Chase said, bolting out of the room and down the hall to the kitchen. Eleonora, Misty and Queenie gasped at his childlike, energetic speed at his age, but then Clara ran after her father to join him. Amy, however, stayed for an extra moment to listen to Julie.

"Maybe a little ice cream will make you feel better?" the Supreme suggested with a giggle, wiping a tear away from one of her cool, intense blue eyes. "I think there's strawberry in there."

"Strawbe'ry?" Amy asked, the light returning to her face. "Oh boy!"

The little girl got off her aunt's lap and ran out of the room, her exquisite golden curls bouncing as her small feet pitter-pattered against the floor on the way to the kitchen. Queenie smiled at the Supreme, who smiled sadly; she could do nothing but empathize with the girl, which incited negative feelings of sadness within her. She approached the desk with Eleonora and Misty behind her, putting her large, chubby hands on its mahogany surface as Julie went to resume typing her records.

"Julie?" Queenie asked. "Have something to say? Say it."

"It's nothing," the Supreme replied, her fingers rested on the home keys. "Good going with the ice cream, though."

"I tried. Ice cream always makes me feel better," the ebony witch said.

Julie gave her a sideways glance, typing perfectly without looking at neither the screen nor the keyboard; her eyes kept their places on the council member.

"Did the lesson finish early today?" the Supreme asked.

"No, I just stopped it. No one here is good at injury transference," the witch answered.

"Oh boy," Julie sighed wearily, resting her forehead in the palm of her propped hand.

* * *

Two nights later, Eleonora walked down to the ancestry room after her nightly bubble bath, wearing a bright purple muscle-style tank top with a pair of lilac yoga pants with short, white ped socks on her feet. Her hair was still somewhat wet, but when she walked into the room, she saw Julie sitting in front of the fire place levitating a small crystal sphere over her open palms. Her soulful gray eyes stared off into front of her, but Eleonora assumed she was looking at the glass as illuminated by the fire. She stood there, hearing Julie mutter words she couldn't understand.

Her feet stepped forward lightly on the carpet, careful not to make a sound. Yet it was to no avail.

_BONK!_

The crystal ball fell down on the floor, possibly by Julie's will, and the Supreme stood up and looked over at her sister, looking distressed beyond normal comparison. Eleonora rushed over to her and took one of her icy-cold, pale hands and squeezed it out of deep concern and worry as the white-haired, youthful older woman looked down at the fire at it froze out of view.

"Julie!" she exclaimed. "What's wrong?"

"I saw…firefighters...huge hoses…and they're all at Chase's house!" the Supreme panicked. "W-We have to move!"

"What?" Eleonora asked in shock. "Are you sure it wasn't the fireplace—"

"There's a _FIRE_! Let's go! Get the rest of them!" Julie screeched. "We have to save them! I saw it with my own eyes in that ball!"

**A/N:**

**Looks like trouble is beginning to start! Let's hope no one gets hurt.**

**Thanks for much to **Weezy815**and **littlexkiller **for their astounding reviews!**

**Please give feedback and Favorite!**

**Thanks guys! Stay tuned for the next chapter (sorry for the cliffhanger, but as I always say, suspense is my forte). :3**


	7. Chapter 7

Julie was the one to take the car along with Eleonora in the passenger seat and Queenie, Zoe and Cordelia in the back three. The Supreme seemed to nervously speed down the streets, feeling tears fall down her face and freeze against her cheek painfully as she struggled not to panic. The other three witches were confused, but they knew that the Supreme had powerful psychic abilities—there couldn't have been any way Julie was driving them out at night for nothing.

"How did you see it?" Zoe asked, out of her seatbelt with her hand on the back of the driver's seat.

"I…I looked in the crystal ball…uh…" She paused, shaking her head with a quiet whine. "I can't talk right now. We need to get there!"

With that being said, she stepped on the gas and the car accelerated a deal beyond the street's speed limit before the smell of burning wood came through the vents. Julie sniffed, speeding faster and suddenly coming to a hefty stop to get out of the car and see firemen in uniform spurting high-power hoses up at a burning house. Flames licked their way out of the windows, roaring with a ravaging intensity as several neighbors congregated to the sides to watch and panic at the ferocious spectacle. The fire was as loud as thunder, ripping through the house as she heard beams and structural components falling inside the house. On the verge of a worried cry, the Supreme gasped breathily and nearly let out a wail as she saw Chase's house consumed by hell's very own inferno.

"Oh my…gods!" she screamed, the other witches following her upon getting out of the car.

Eleonora and Cordelia, who used her Second Sight to see as her blind, scarred eyes cried, had no reservations in running to the dangerous lawn of the burning abode, seeing Misty and Chase crying and shouting frantically in each others arms in fear of the fire. Eleonora ran toward them, Cordelia behind her, and took a frightened, shaken-up Chase into her arms as he sobbed frantically.

"Chase! Oh my god! Are you ok?" his younger sister cried. "Julie had visions…we got so worried!"

"Clara….in there!" he said, barely able to speak a full sentence from the heavy, breathless sobbing. "Amy, too!"

"Where'd you last see them?!" the blonde witch asked, startled by the sudden lick of flame that nearly caught onto them from the immolated house.

"Up in their rooms, playin'," Misty replied, crashing her face into Cordelia's shoulder as she gripped her tightly. Cordelia saw a flash of light come to her mind, and she gasped.

"Clara is alright! They're pulling her out from upstairs," the blind witch said. "I can see it!"

She was right; a tall, stocky firefighter in his uniform came out five or so minutes later with a weary Clara in his arms bridal-style as her arm hung downwards, limp and restful. Misty, letting Cordelia go, saw Julie, Zoe, and Queenie approach the fiery scene closer as the little girl was set to her feet, running toward her mother and father with tears flooding her large blue eyes. They both held her for dear life, and Misty kissed her sooty cheek roughly and cried.

"CLARA!" she shouted. "Are you alright?"

"Y-Yeah, ma," she whined in a high-pitched, worried voice. "Amy's stuck!"

"Stuck?!" Chase shouted. "Where?!"

"I dunno! I dunno! She's still in there!" the little girl screeched. "I'm scared!"

"Misty? Chase?" Julie called out, running toward them with salty tears frosted to her white face like the outside of an ice cream container. "Get away from here! The fire's going to hurt you."

"I ain't leavin' 'til I see my baby!" Misty hissed in a sob.

"Chase, come with me. You're going to get hurt," the Supreme resisted, holding her hand out from him to hold. He struggled to grip it with his cleft hand but went with her anyway. To get Misty to budge, Julie utilized concilium to enforce her will upon hers and get her to move away from the fire with them.

Meanwhile, Queenie and Zoe approached a firefighter, who had tried to elongate his hose, but before it could spurt up and fight the flames, they spoke.

"How the _hell_ did this happen?" Queenie asked in her usual sassy manner.

"We don't know, miss," the firefighter answered. "They got one girl out, the other is still stuck in there somewhere."

* * *

Inside the immolated house, Amy was trapped in the hallway upstairs, crying hysterically as the flames danced ferociously around her like meat-hungry lions in a cage. The walls were covered in black, dirty soot, and the fires that were destroying every inch of her house seemed to grow higher as she panicked beyond her own control.

"HELP ME!" she screamed. "HELP!"

No one seemed to answer even though she could hear clattering downstairs along with heavy, booted footsteps.

"DADDY!" she screamed, tears flowing down her face. "MAMA! _HEEELP_!"

The fires began to eat the walls, and as her large, intense blue eyes turned to her left, she could see the door to the master bedroom completely turned to ash as her parent's bed, dresser, mirror table, and nightstands became nothing more than just piles of debris. Little Amy shrieked a piercing cry upon seeing the ceiling cave in and land on the burning, covered mattress.

"HELP! GET ME OUT! HEEELPPP! HEEEELL—"

_CRASH!_

* * *

The Second Sight flashed a bright red light in Cordelia's mind outside of the burning building, and she screamed.

"OH NO!" She was crazed—she had seen Amy with her second sight.

"What happened? What do you see?!" Eleonora asked, shaking the blind witch's shoulders. Cordelia, crying frantically, had a piercingly intense sob as she raised her hands to her brow.

"Amy….she's hurt!"

"NO!" Julie shouted. "AMY!"

"AMYYY!" Misty screamed, collapsing to the ground and weeping hysterically. Chase tried to help her back to her feet as he cried in unison with her, but it was to no avail.

"AHH! NO!" he barked angrily. "GET HER OUT! NOW! THAT'S MY LITTLE GIRL! NO!"

Two firefighters, seen by Julie in the small distance from the edge of the lawn to the burning house, came out of the house empty-handed—the Supreme was shocked and indeed furious. She charged the two men in uniform and her soulful eyes penetrated them like battle axes in the heat of the moment.

"Where's my niece?" she hissed.

"We can't find—"

"WHERE IS SHE?!" she screeched.

"Ma'am, I ask that you—"

"GET HER OUT! NOW!" she barked, sounding like a mad, rabid dog foaming ferociously at the mouth.

Seizing the opportunity, she utilized concilium and enforced her will fiercely on the two firefighters—one of them struggled to resist, but in her rage, the Supreme made it so that he was bleeding from his nose, his ears, his eyes and his mouth, nearly killing him from a brain hemorrhage. She gritted her teeth, using her cryokinesis to freeze the blood to his face so that it bit his skin beneath as she recited her will in the form of a venomous hiss.

"Don't _fuck_ with me," she began ferociously, "you _will _go in there and _get _that little girl, and make a _fucking_ effort to do so. If you don't, I will make sure you die right here. Don't care how, but I will. It's been a _very_ long night, and I _don't_ want to work up a sweat. Don't make me a bad witch-bitch. I don't want to be. Now GO!"

The firefighters scurried into the house, and Julie watched them intently, biting her lower lip and closing her darkly-shadowed eyelids, holding out her hand palm up and concentrating as she pressed her soft, frigid palm to her soft, glossed lips and held it there for a few moments to let her power build up. When it reached its peak, she took it away and blew her breath out in the form of a cloud of cold snow, projecting it toward the burning building as it started from the bottom and crackled its way to the top of the remains of the structure. Julie continued to concentrate, hearing the neighbors shout off to the side in shock as the inferno ceased by her will and looking as the last flame licked weakly against her icy powers. However, the heat of the Louisianan summer melted the ice quickly, and even the firefighters were shocked at the sudden stop to the destruction. The Supreme turned and looked back at the dumbstruck neighbors of Misty and Chase, smirking slightly as her face softened from anger and determination to kindness and triumph.

"Relax, everyone," she said, "the fire is gone." She raised her voice slightly, looking at the neighbors assertively. "Be gone to your homes! There's nothing to see here."

However, there was plenty still yet to see—some of the neighbors stuck around to see a long, thick bag being carried out by paramedics called to the scene within minutes. The ambulance sounded its siren and flashed blue and orange lights, and once Misty saw the bag be carried out past her, she ran to the paramedic and sobbed heavily.

"MY _BABY_!" she screamed. "DON'T TAKE HER! We can help her with _our _doin's! DO NOT take her!"

"Amy…" Chase began to sob, looking down and picking up on his wife's intense emotions as a third paramedic, hands not on the long body bag but rather following close behind it, looked at the flaxen-haired woman and put a hand on her thin, shawled shoulder.

"We are so sorry, ma'am," he said, sighing sympathetically. "The firefighters found her. The ceiling caved in…"

"AHHH!" Misty screamed. "NOOOO!"

"Ma'am, please remain calm," the paramedic said. "I know exactly how you feel…" A tear escaped one of his wrinkled, middle-aged eyes, "my daughter died of an overdose. We couldn't save her. We are so sorry, ma'am. We really are."

_Sorry my ass_, Misty thought as they took the body bag away from the extinguished fires scene. Chase ran after them within reasonable distance, grabbing the medic and shaking him like a child begging for his toy back.

"Give her back! No! Please! Give her back!" he cried out. "Please!"

"Sir, we cannot. We have to have a doctor declare her dead, conduct an autopsy and—"

"_NO_!" Eleonora shouted. "It's clear how she died! Don't ruin her even _more_!"

Clara looked up at her family members and the other witches as they tried to prevent the paramedics from carrying her dead sister's corpse into the ambulance, making sure they were distracted before running off and sneaking in the back of the open ambulance, hiding well enough so that when the body was placed on the gurney and the medics sat, she couldn't be seen. Chase was the first to notice her missing, and he gasped.

"Where is Clara?" he asked, his colorless gray eyes looking around the darkness.

"Oh…shit," Misty whispered to herself. "Oh my…c'mon!"

"She was in the back of that ambulance," Cordelia said, using her Second Sight.

"What?!" Eleonora exclaimed.

"She snuck back there," Cordelia wept. "I see it now."

"You didn't _think_ to stop her?" Misty asked with disbelief.

"I didn't notice," the blind witch said in a tearful whine. "We have to get there, and _fast_!"

* * *

The body bag had been brought down into the hospital's basement, which served as a morgue of sorts aside from storage. Clara, who had snuck into the back of the ambulance, made her way out of it and followed the doctors discreetly to a specialized room in the basement where the coroner, in charge of staff in the basement, declared her dead. He unzipped the body bag, and a hidden Clara gasped at the sight of blood emanating from Amy's dead mouth. Even in death with a thin layer of soot on her skin and clothing, the deceased child was still so beautiful, her pallid face framed by her soft, golden curls which were moved aside by the doctor. Clara kept her ears open for the dialogue between the coroner and his assistant.

"Oh my…"

"How old is she?" the assistant asked.

"Seven? Six?"

"She's just a baby."

"Look at her face. She's a doll," the coroner said, smiling sadly as he gently stroked her cheek with his latex-covered finger. "What a shame…she would've been a beautiful woman."

"Want to remove clothing articles yet?" the assistant asked.

"No, not yet. I'm off shift soon," the coroner responded. "I'll revisit this case in the morning. I can already see some trauma to the chest area here." He pointed to her chest, lifting down the top of the corpse's dress. "The medics got word from the firefighters that she was found beneath a large mass that collapse from the ceiling. They found a…" The coroner held the hand on Amy's corpse with a sad frown, "little hand poking out. They were like, yeah, that's the girl."

"Should we put her in the freezer, then?"

_What is she, food?_ Clara asked herself as she shook her head and hid better as not to be seen.

"Hm, maybe. I think Steve will at the end of the night," he said. "Let's go and tell him."

Watching them leave, Clara knew her chance was up—she got out of hiding and looked up at the clock; she could not read time very well even thought the large hand was over the twelve and the small hand on the ten. She felt tears form in her eyes as she gazed upon her dead younger sister. She tried to walk over, but her attention was caught by the majestic beauty of Amy's dead face. Though it was pallid with blood running down the side of her soft, pale pink mouth, her golden curls softly fanned around her head and was still quite neat even after being rustled around in a body bag for some time.

"Amy?" she whispered with a cracking voice. "It's me, Clara. Your sister." She paused, letting a tear shed from one of her large, clear blue eyes. "Aunt Julie told us spirits hang 'round 'fore goin' down to Helheim. I…I hope you're still here."

The silence was enough to make Clara begin to cry as she drew closer to the table upon which her sister's corpse was rested. He leaned forward slightly, holding the pallid hand the coroner had analyzed before leaving.

"You're so cold…cold like Aunt Julie. You need to stay warm. You'll catch a cold. They say they'll put you in a freezer, but you ain't food," the girl wept, gripping her dead sister's hand slightly. "I love you, sissy. I wish ma were here to bring you back, or Aunt E-E-Eleonora? Maybe both of 'em can bring you back."

Now, the putrid smell of decomposition was getting to her nose, but she was more focused on getting her words out and her tears shed. Clara also could not help but gag slightly, letting her cough out away from her sister's frigid corpse. Clara let out a moment's worth of sobbing as she tried to hold her sister's head, looking down and letting her tears fall on the corpse's pallid smoothness. Amy's small head was surprisingly heavy, and the girl closed her eyes.

"Amy…A-Amy…"

Her chest felt heavy, and she struggled to take a deep breath.

"A…Am…."

She felt her heart begin to slow down, fighting to pump liters of blood through her veins.

"W…wh…uh…huh….ah….huh…."

Heavier breathing; her final thought came to mind.

_What is happening to me?_ Clara's eyes suddenly felt heavy.

_THUD!_

At that moment, the corpse of Amy sprung back to life, jerking up and coughing heavily even though it was incredibly painful to do so. More blood seeped from her mouth and onto the skirt of her dress. Her chest, also, was in excruciating enough pain for her to sob.

But it wasn't just that—it was the sight of Clara, her long, straight raven-colored hair fanned out on the hard tile floor as she lay lifeless there.

**A/N:**

**What happened to Clara? Oh, and Amy came back to life…hm, I wonder how?**

**I hope this didn't rip at your heartstrings too much. I apologize for the piles of tissues and overflowing trashcans. Not my intention.**

**Please leave feedback, ****Follow****and ****Favorite****.**

**Thank you and happy reading! :)**


	8. Chapter 8

Cordelia's gift of Second Sight proved helpful as she and Julie led the witches through the halls of the hospital's first floor, relying on joint visions to locate Amy's corpse. They dodged heart monitors, empty gurneys, and nurses carrying bags of medication for intravenous lines. When they came to a stairwell, a few nurses saw them attempt to descend the stairs to go into the basement, the morgue and storage area, and they approached Julie, Cordelia, Eleonora, Chase, Misty, Zoe, and Queenie to try and stop them.

"Stop!" one of them called. "You can't go down there without identification."

Julie, her soulful eyes turning cold, turned to the two nurses and imposed her will upon them, working as fast as she could to get down to her niece on time.

"You _will_ allow us in, and you _will _allow us to take what is ours," the Supreme stated.

"Oh…uh…yes!" the other nurse smiled, her green eyes shining at the white-haired witch. "Of course!"

As the two nurses moved to let the group of witches past them, Eleonora patted Julie and Cordelia on the back with praise, a slight smile streaked across her teary-eyed, sad face from the loss they had just experienced.

"Good job," she whispered, "she should be down here."

"Clara should be as well," Misty said.

The flaxen-haired bohemian witch suddenly felt a strange chill through her bones. Having the power of resurgence, she could easily sense the presence of corpses and the newly dead. Yet when they reached the bottom of the stairs, they walked down the narrow hallway past several windows above office desks with medical professionals sitting at them and filling out paper work. Julie concentrated on each doctor, looking in each window quickly before using concilium to force them to continue doing their work as it said in their job descriptions. The last thing they needed was a crowd of doctors preventing them from getting what was theirs.

Chase and Zoe opened the doors into a designated room in the basement morgue, where Misty gasped at the gruesome sight before her—aside from small, closed, coffin-sized freezers built into the walls, she saw a revived Amy crying in pain as she struggled to stand up from the autopsy table to reach for Clara, who laid dead on the hard, tile floor with her long black hair fanned around her lifeless head. Rushing over to Amy, she took the crying, newly-revived girl into her arms only to have her scream in agony.

"OW! OW!" she yelped.

"Oh, my baby!" Misty sobbed, seeing Chase rush over to Clara's corpse on the floor, looking down at her pallid face. "You're alive! How did….how…"

Misty suddenly looked down, and she saw Julie and Queenie approach the body of the dead older sister as Chase sobbed into the crook of her stiffened neck.

"C…Clara…n-no!" he wept.

"Chase," Misty said calmly, kneeling before her husband and holding her arms out. Her husband's colorless gray eyes, flooding with tears and heartbreak, struggled to speak as Julie watched them. Eleonora and Zoe, however, helped Amy to her feet so she could walk.

"A-Are you going…to bring…h-her back to…life?" Chase asked, sobbing painfully as he felt the cracks in his heart begin to separate into huge gasps.

"I'm gonna try," his wife said as she was handed her oldest daughter's body.

The witch's curling, voluminous flaxen hair fell down her face as she sighed sadly with tears running down her face as Clara's head rested in her lap. Misty closed her eyes and put her hands on the sides of the young brunette's head, concentrating on putting life back into the girl. Chase, Julie, and Queenie watched intently, while the newly revived Amy held onto Eleonora and Zoe's hands as they all observed Misty's powers manifest.

Misty continued to concentrate, but the manifestation came without effort—Clara's large, clear blue eyes opened and she jerked up slightly to take huffy, deep breaths to get air back into her system. Lying back on her mother's kneeling lap, she looked up into her sparkling, happy blue eyes strangely.

"W-When did _you_ get here?" her oldest daughter responded.

"She's alive!" Chase exclaimed. "Both my little girls are alive! YAY!"

"C-Clara?" Amy asked, her small feet pitter-pattering against the floor to meet her sister. She carefully went on her knees, looking at her newly revived older sister and smiling, the blood still dried to her face; she suddenly held her rib area. "Ow…"

"Amy," Julie said, approaching her. "Are you alright?"

"My bones hurt real bad," her niece replied with anguish.

"Any cuts you have, I'll make some of that poultice and put it on 'em," Misty suggested.

"No, no, Misty," Julie said. "I don't see any cuts—"

"She has a few broken ribs, Julie," Cordelia said; the blind witch reached down to feel the girl's back and sense the injuries sustained from the ceiling caving in.

"Alrighty, Amy," Julie said, "come over here."

"Are you using your magick?" Amy asked in her petite-sounding, small voice.

"Yes, sweetie," the Supreme replied.

Misty hated being rebuffed by Julie for use of her healing poultice made of swamp moss and alligator dung—not only did the Supreme find it disgusting, but she had natural healing abilities that had flourished after the death of she, Eleonora, and Chase's mother during the Seven Wonders years before. Placing her cold hands beneath the top of Amy's blood and soot-covered dress, she concentrated enough so that the ribs welded back into place. The little girl felt a painful shifting inside her chest and whined, but the Supreme shushed her and told her to relax until her healing was finished. Julie took her hands off the back of her niece and crouched down again to her level.

"Take a breath," she said, doing the same herself; Amy mimicked her aunt and smiled, feeling relief that the crushing feeling was no longer present.

"Thank you, auntie," the little girl said, tightly wrapping her arms around the Supreme, who let tears of joy fall into her niece's shoulder. Clara, who had been helped to her feet by her father after hugging both her parents, ran to the Supreme and kissed her cheek so that the three were engaged in an intense group hug.

_I wonder how Amy came back to life_, Misty thought, looking at her daughters with their aunt. She walked over, crossing her arms over her chest studiously as the Supreme let her nieces go.

"Julie?" she asked. "A word, please?"

"Yes," she whispered, going closer to the closed door of the designated room in the basement morgue. Misty had an angry look in her eyes, and Julie saw a red and turquoise aura surrounding her form.

"You think just 'cause you're the Supreme that you can tell me what's best for my lil' girls?" she asked forcefully.

"I never told you what was best for them," Julie argued assertively. "I just don't think they'd want to be smeared in gator shit and mud is all. Also, there weren't any cuts on her body."

"So you think it's okay to just be all 'mother figure' all of a sudden? Just 'cause _you_ can't have any?" Misty asked in a whispered temper.

"_You_ can't heal internal injuries, Misty. _I can_," Julie argued. "Do you even realize you can die of broken ribs if they puncture your lung or your heart? Lucky I can fix those." She paused and took a breath. "Now, let's go home. Our work is done here."

"We don't got a home," Misty snapped. "Remember? It got burned down?"

"Silly, I meant _our_ home," Julie chided. "Come with us. Stay as long as you need."

* * *

Queenie, Zoe, and Cordelia all helped out in setting up the ancestry room's sofa and living chairs to be more comfortable for Chase, Misty, and their two daughters until thy were given a more permanent bedroom setting. First, the children were bathed in the bathroom adjoining the headmistress' office, and they were given two of Eleonora's old shirts which were oversized on their small bodies. Looking at the clock to see that it was closer than ever to the first wee hour of morning, Julie and Misty tucked the children in, and just when the Supreme planted a kiss on Amy's smooth, fair forehead, she saw tears flooding her intense, pool-like eyes.

"_Shh_," Julie whispered, running her cold fingers through her exquisite, soft blonde curls. "It's okay."

"N-No," Amy whined. "It ain't."

"What's the matter?" Misty asked, kneeling on the floor near the sofa next to the Supreme.

"I…I think I burnt the house," Amy whined. "I…I made fire."

"What? _No_, you couldn't have," Julie sighed, shaking her head.

Misty, however, listened to her daughter's words carefully. _I'm shocked Julie's so doubtful_, she thought.

"I did, I did," the little girl cried, "I made it happen. I burnt the house. I was playin' with my dollhouse, and I see fire in my head. Then the dollhouse got on fire, and I cried, and then the fire got bigger and bigger and bigger."

Misty took a breath, collecting her revived youngest daughter in her arms, her shirt absorbing her salty, warm tears. Her long, lithe fingers ran through the soft ringlets as she consoled Amy.

"_Shh_, _shh_, it's okay, darlin'," Misty told her daughter. Julie looked over and stood up, looking at Clara and kneeling beside her end of the sofa made into a makeshift bed for them. The older sister struggled to keep her eyes closed, but when Julie kissed her forehead, she remained silent; using her psychic abilities to delve into her niece's mind, she began to ask questions.

"We weren't down there when you were," the Supreme began. "What happened?"

"Amy was dead on the table," the dark-haired girl replied.

"How'd she come back to life?" Julie asked calmly.

"I dunno," Clara replied. "I just…started talkin' to her and…I tried to hug her, but ended up holdin' her head…then I…fainted, I guess. I don't remember."

"Then _you_ were dead," Amy said, looking down at her sister. "I woke up."

_The power of resurgence_, Julie thought, looking at her dark-haired niece and smiling as she planted another kiss on her pale, smooth forehead. "Sleep well, my little beauties."

_Pyrokinesis_, the Supreme thought again, looking at her youngest niece with a wary look, _she must learn to control it. Fire can be very dangerous. She's so young, too_.

Eleonora, who was standing outside the doorway of the ancestry room, heard everything the little girls were saying to Misty and her sister. _Amy does have powers after all_, she thought, _I wished she would be in the favor of the powers that be so she would be blessed with normality_. She quickly made her way up the stairs and to her bedroom, opening the door and switching on the light to see David standing there, his superb physical form dressed in black pants and a black shirt with white socks on his feet. Her green eyes glanced up at him and she sighed, feeling her teeth sink gently into the tip of her tongue.

"Where you been?" he asked. "I ain't seen you."

"Well, you're omniscient," Eleonora replied, walking toward the mirror. "Don't you know everything?"

"_Almost_ everything," David replied.

"Then…"

"Power of resurgence…powers ruling over fire," the incubus said. "That's what I know."

"What?" Eleonora asked, walking to her bed to sit down. The incubus' physical form walked over to join her, taking her hand into his masculine, but very soft one as he entwined his fingers with hers.

"You faced two big losses this evenin'," he explained. "But they's alive now. That's all that counts. One lil' girl burnt down that house, and the other didn't know she was bringin' the firestartin' one back to life. It took a toll on 'er wee body."

"W-Were you there?" the witch asked.

"Nah, nah," David said. "I wouldn't be goin' and assumin' that."

"Were you there or not?" Eleonora asked forcefully; she was losing her patience with his trivial, cryptic speaking.

"I saw Julie puttin' out the fire with ice. My, what a power she is in your little _group_," the incubus said. Eleonora scoffed with aggravation, but she was also very tired—who could blame her?

"We're not just some _little group_, David," the witch said, looking straight at his handsome face and into his eyes. "We're a coven. Julie is our Supreme. She's a very good leader. She knows a lot about what goes on around here, especially since she's been Supreme for the better part of ten years."

"You don't need to be tellin' me," David said nonchalantly. "I already know. I also know that your sweet mama was a part of the coven, too. It don't surprise me, because she was a witch."

"Yeah…" Eleonora sighed, the moment of silence broken by his purr of a voice, his non-rhotic accent caressing her eardrums like soft, ethereal music.

"Your mama, as much as I loved her, she was a very destructive woman. She did some pretty disgustin' things in her life, but at the same damn time, I don't blame her," he explained. "After I died in '85, I was given knowledge. I told the succubus who changed me to show me how my Elina'd been since I last seen her. Sometimes, I wish I never asked for that. The things shown to me were enough to make me puke my belly to oblivion."

Eleonora, drawn into what he was saying, attentively listened and asked questions.

"W-What did you see?" she asked calmly.

"Well, her daddy, Jimmy Darling was his name. He was your granddaddy. Remember I said he was a farmer in lil' farmin' town?" he asked; she nodded and listened. "He lost it all after his wife died. Poor bastard didn't have the will to live anymore. He lost the last of his marbles. He drank himself slowly to death. My Elina suffered. I'd heard in passin' while I was alive from my dad how bad he'd gotten with his drinkin'. He did no more farmer's markets. His five acres o'land went to nothin' but crows peckin' every day. It was a wasteland, really. Then they moved on down to Florida. That's when things got nasty."

"How did things get nasty, David?" she questioned.

"He still pickled his liver, was horny with the ladies. Then one night, he settled on my Elina," David answered, a tear rolling down his face even though he tried to sound like he wasn't crying. "He took my white bride."

"You mean—"

"Yup," he cut in. "She was supposed to be _my_ virgin bride. He took her, and I remember seein' all the disgustin', vile things she was su'jected to do. Then she went off seein' some other kid after he filled her belly with his seed. I don't blame her for not wantin' to see her daddy no more, but this other kid cheapened her."

"So I take it that she did something to…my grandfather," Eleonora said; the shame in her voice was clearly evident, and he could sense it as easily as one plus one.

"Oh yeah, darlin'. She stopped his heart from beatin' and burnt him to ash. You guys wouldn't be able to bring 'im back. He ain't nothin'. Literally," he explained; he leaned forward and dug the bottoms of his palms into his intense blue eyes. "My heaven, she should'a left 'im 'lone when she said she was gonna. She wouldn't've become what she did. She went on to kill 'er twin babies, or try to, at least."

Her eyes widened as she asked her next question; she was shocked beyond belief: "She tried to _kill_ Julie and Chase?!"

"Yeah." He paused and took a breath. "I didn't wanna tell you, but you gotta know the truth."

"Well, stop!" Eleonora said. "I don't want to hear anymore. That's enough."

"Well, your loss," David boomed rudely. "If that's how you feel 'bout it, it's how you feel 'bout it." He rested a hand on her thigh, coercing her to listen to him. "_Is_ that how you feel 'bout it?"

The witch was silenced, but he moved closer and whispered in her ear, his seductive, non-rhotic Southern accent ringing softly to her auditory pleasure zones as his hand moved up her thigh.

"Hm," he purred, "lay your struggles on me. Use me. I can take it."

"But I have no struggles to lay on you, David," Eleonora said.

"If you're gon' lie, be good at it," he retorted playfully. "I can read everythin' on your mind. I can _see_ everythin'. I can…" He reached his hand down into her yoga pants, feeling her through her panties, "even feel that you're soakin' wet right now."

"David, I—"

"No," he ordered softly, kissing her lips. "Don't speak. You'll ruin the moment. I don't wanna ruin it." _Her lips taste like Elina's_, he thought as he lingered his lips over hers before moving down her neck. He gently sucked on her smooth skin and she sighed in pleasure.

"D-David," she said. "Did you ever…uh…oh…mount my mom…when she slept?"

"Oh, darlin', I'd never do such a thing," he panted, bring her hand to his bulging, tightening pants, where his length was starting to get fully erect.

"W-Why?" she asked. "You…say you…loved her so much."

"Exactly why, sugar," he said, looking into her eyes with the hopes to coerce her and make her forget. "I loved her _too_ much to do that."


	9. Chapter 9

Misty and Chase were given their very own permanent room just next to the room their daughters were set to share. It was slightly down the hall from Eleonora's room, and it was slightly less ornate with an olive polyester bedspread and matching valances complimenting white, wooden furniture. Clara and Amy were given the room next door with a single bed covered in a soft, pink chenille comforter, fluffy pillows, and a stuffed teddy bear gifted to them by Zoe. Julie had planned for a shopping trip for her relatives, taking Misty and the two girls out to the mall to get new clothing and other necessities—the Supreme even agreed to pay for three new _Fleetwood Mac_ albums to replace those Misty had lost in the fire.

During late afternoon, Eleonora was sitting in the ancestry room in a lounge chair, looking at the empty fireplace as she crossed her legs. Looking ladylike with svelte, hosed legs, her green eyes closed gently as she concentrated—a fire slowly began to take form in the fireplace, and when it blazed she jolted her eyes back open. As a chill of uncertainty went through her body, she remembered something she had repressed in her subconscious:

_"__Get in the house," her mother hissed. "__Stupid girl!_"

_"__But mama—" She felt a burning sensation on the back of her neck, and she began to cry heavily; Nanna, the cat, followed them up the steps as her platinum-blonde grabbed the back of her daughter's neck and led her up the steps of the house—the burning seared through her tender, young flesh._

_"__Now!"_

The fire crackled peacefully in the hearth as Eleonora gave her chin a light stroke; when she looked to her right, she saw no one but David, the incubus, sitting on the sofa. His azure gaze seemed to penetrate her, and his physically fit form was dressed in a black dress shirt with matching slacks and leather dress shoes. The front of his short brown hair was slightly messed up, but it was reminiscent of a male hairstyle from his own time. He was slightly hunched forward, his broad shoulders hulked over comfortably.

"Ah!" She was startled, and he cackled playfully.

"Aw, sugar," he smirked. "I thought you'd be used to me by now."

"I'm sorry," she replied, putting a hand to her chest. "You just startled me, that's all."

"Hm," he muttered. "Finally usin' the power you like to suppress, huh?"

"What?"

"Yup, I saw you makin' that fire in the fireplace," David said. "You ain't never used those powers, 'cept maybe once, hm?"

"Well, I…I discovered them during…the Seven Wonders," Eleonora explained. "I was shocked."

"Why?"

"Because I never thought I was as evil as my mother was," she replied calmly.

"Oh, sugar," David said, standing up and walking apace between where she was sitting and where the fireplace was ablaze. "Just because you can set a room ablaze, it don't mean you're evil. You hear?"

"But—"

"Ain't no buts about it, Eleonora," he said, cutting her off and coercing her with his mind to listen. "You suppress your biggest powers, you ain't gonna be to your full potential. Screw bein' normal, 'cause you ain't gon' change. I mean, look at you." He pointed to her sideways. "You're pretty _and_ you can pass as normal. You don't look like some walkin' freak show."

Eleonora looked up at him and sighed, her thoughts racing so much even David couldn't read them.

"Your mama misused hers," he continued, "and you don't gotta let that happen to _you_. She took it down a dark path, but hell, who can blame her? Her daddy went nuts after _her_ mama died and in turn it made _her_ nuts."

"David?" she asked after a brief moment of silence.

"Yes'm?"

"Do you think…you know, _maybe_ my mother could've been a good person? Do you think _maybe_ she could have avoided hurting people?" she asked slowly.

"Huh," he breathed nonchalantly. "Ain't no doubt in my mind. Elina had a pure soul when I met her. Sure, she had a bite to her, but she was, what's the word, _innocent_. I remember the night she accidentally burnt my shoulders after I kissed her for the first time. She had such a look on her face. It was like she'd seen a monster."

"Seemed she liked to burn people, though," Eleonora blurted. "She did it to me when I was little."

"I know," David replied, looking down at the witch. "I seen it. Wasn't a good thing for her to do to a lil' girl. Ugh…"

He made his way over to the grand piano, standing near the windowed corner with its shiny, ebony grandeur. Eleonora watched him from the short distance, standing up from her seat as her stiletto heels clacked softly against the floor. In the rays of afternoon sunlight, David was partially invisible as he took a seat at the bench and erected his back. His soft, masculine-shaped hands and his strong fingers rested on the ivories as he began to delicately punch out a tune in E minor. The incubus, only stripes of him seen because of the sun's rays coming through the window, seemed so poised and refined as he continued to intensify the power of the chords he was playing on the piano.

_This is for you, my Elina_, he thought, _if your spirit is out of Hell, please listen to my song_.

"You know, she did a ton of wrong in her life, but…" He kept playing, speaking softly with a seductive purr, "I still loved her and watched over her. After my spirit changed, I went to New York, where she'd been livin' with your uncle."

"My Uncle Adam," Eleonora muttered, approaching him closer as he played the same chords over and over.

"Or _Aunt Annika_, rather," David said. "He was a woman 'fore he became a man. Ain't that somethin'?"

"Huh?"

"Yup. Sex change," he replied. "He took my Elina in after she killed her daddy. She was connivin', but I still loved her. He got her a job singin' in a jazz club." He played the tune much more softly so he could talk lower. "She was a singer. I'd snuck into the club after I was changed, tryin' to watch her croonin' tunes. My, she was beautiful, the way the spotlight hit her moon-white pallor, her lips painted _devil _red and her firin' eyes staring out and overdone. Her beau was a rich mafioso. I could'a given her the same damn things. But I couldn't. I was dead 'n gone."

There was a soft interlude connecting the versed piano chords, and Eleonora heard a soulful voice began singing—it reminded her of church. She had never gone to a church before, though, so she just listened and allowed herself to be lost.

"Amen…Amen…Amen…"

A slight pause before the incubus began to croon in his deep, emotional baritone:

"_If the heavens ever did speak,  
She's the last true mouthpiece.  
Every Sunday's gettin' more bleak,  
A fresh poison each week.  
'We were born sick,' you heard 'em say it,  
My Church offers no absolutes.  
She tells me, 'Worship in the bedroom.'  
The only heaven I'll be sent to  
is when I'm alone with you…_"

The interlude came again—"Amen….Amen…Amen…"

The chords got more powerful, the incubus getting more passionate with his soulful voice:

"_Take me to church!  
I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies!  
I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife!  
Offer me that deathless death,  
Good God, lemme give you my life!_"

Eleonora looked to the open doorway of the ancestry room to see Chase standing there with childlike curiosity in his eyes as he heard David singing and playing the piano with deep emotion and passion in his soulful baritone. The witch gestured for her brother to enter, but slowly—however, this did nothing to stop David from sensing his presence. He finished off the song with a few chilling lyrics, letting them escape his lips with abandon, a state of almost sexual ecstasy as he visualized the form of a platinum-haired, hazel-eyed woman in his mind. A tear even streamed down his cheek, but he expressed his emotion through the words:

"_There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin…  
In the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene  
Only then I am human  
Only then I am clean…_"

_CLAP-CLAP-CLAP!_

"Wow!" Chase exclaimed, clapping his deformed hands together. "That was awesome! Oh, play some more! Please?"

However, the sound of pitter-pattering little feet down the hallway and the rustling of shopping bags both plastic and paper came to the three in the ancestry room. Chase looked back to see smiling faces on both of his daughters, and he held out his arms as he crouched to their level. Amy ran into his left arm and Clara into his right, holding their father for dear life as Julie entered the room with Misty—the first person they noticed, however, was the partially invisible incubus sitting on the piano bench in the corner.

"I missed you!" Chase cooed.

"Daddy," Amy sighed. "Love you."

"I love you, too, Amy. And you, too, Clara," he smiled, kissing each of their cheeks.

David stood up from the piano and looked over at Julie and Misty with a smile, but the one person who caught his attention the most was Amy. At first it was a quick, casual glance, but it escalated when he took another, longer look at the five year old. He walked slightly closer, coming back into full view of the others in his physical form as he analyzed the golden, soft ringlets falling from the little girl's head. Her face was the most beautiful he had seen in so many years, with fair, smooth skin, small pink lips, a perfectly-straight, small nose, and large eyes that had the colorful, azure intensity of crystal-clear seas. He felt his heart race as the two curious girls looked over at him, and his eyes were fixed on Amy as they both made their way over.

"Oh, uh…" Julie was at a loss for words, but looked at Eleonora. "Eleonora?"

"Oh," she said. "Clara? Amy? Meet David. He is…my friend."

David looked over at Clara, her long, straight raven hair framing her pallor, before looking down at Amy, her large eyes glistening with childlike curiosity.

"My, my," he muttered, in awe of the little girl's beauty.

"Also," Eleonora said, breaking his moment of admiration for her niece's beauty; she took his soft hand into hers and walked him over to Chase and Misty, who stood together and shared a quick kiss. "This is Misty Day. And this is my brother, Chase."

"Well, you look lovely, ma'am," David said, shaking her hand softly. "Hm, a creature of the earth, hm?"

"Why, yes! Thank you so much!" the flaxen-haired witch replied.

"Hi, my name is Chase," her husband replied, holding out one of his deformed hands; David looked down with disgust hidden in his face, but was still courteous and shook his hand albeit very quickly.

"Hm, pleasure," he said, feeling his energy through his hand. "A soft heart and a head to match. How do you fare?"

Julie darted a glare at the incubus, scowling angrily. Sensing this, the demon shook his head and smiled.

"But hey, a soft heart in a good way," David cackled, looking at the icy-haired Supreme.

"Amy? Clara?" she said. "Can I have some help, my little beauties?"

"Yeah, auntie," Amy said sweetly. "Comin' now!"

As the little girls exited the ancestry room with a few shopping bags containing their new clothing items, David watched and took a soft, unnoticeable sigh as he admired the younger girl's golden curls. Misty, noticing his gaze in the direction of the doorway, approached him with caution as she felt a strange vibe coming from his being.

"Where d-did you come from?" she said, her curling blonde hair coming down her ethereal face.

"Hm, from heaven and beyond, darlin'," he smirked, a strange spark in his intense blue eyes. "Those were your lil' girls. Such beautiful daughters."

"Thank you," she said with a smile; somehow, the vibes went away. Why had he been so kind to her?

"The lil' one, she's the apple of your eye," David joked.

"They're both _very _special," Chase said. "What is _your _name?"

"David Loring," he smiled. "Feel free to just call me David, if you will."

Meanwhile, Julie and her young nieces were taking tags off clothing and putting them in drawers in their new rooms upstairs. Misty had come up shortly after small talk with the incubus, and she opened the door and snuck in gingerly. Julie's soulful gray eyes stared at her sister in-law as she made her way in and began to fold some of the new clothing articles; she put them in corresponding piles and set aside any of her new garments. Julie noticed the apprehension on her face, taking a sharp sigh and furrowing in her eyebrows, shaped and filled with light taupe pomade.

"What's with you?" she asked.

"Nothin'," Misty replied.

"You know that's a lie," the Supreme said.

"Fine, maybe a little," Misty replied, glancing over at her daughters to make sure they were distracted before staring dead into Julie's eyes.

"Well? You seem apprehensive," the icy-haired Supreme said.

"I got bad vibes. Real bad," the flaxen-haired bohemian witch said. "There's somethin' foul in this house."

"Oh?"

"That…man, or…whatever downstairs," Misty continued. "Who is he? Where'd he come from?"

"Hm, long story short," Julie said, folding one of Amy's new sundresses, "Eleonora realized she was getting lonely and wanted a man."

"Huh?" Misty was clearly confused, so Julie went into further detail while beating around the bush.

"I don't want to get _too _into it, but we helped her cast a spell to conjure the perfect man in her life," she said quietly, folding a few pairs of shorts purchased for Clara. "Turns out, he's more than just that. We literally conjured him."

"Is he…_dead_?" Misty asked with confusion.

"Well, _more _than that," Julie said.

"So he _is_ dead?" Misty asked. "Why don't we just find his body and put him back into it, then?"

"Because his spirit is too…uh, what is the word…" Julie thought for a moment, folding another one of Amy's dresses, "evolved."

"_Evolved_?" she asked. "I don't get it."

"He's an omniscient spirit. He's all-knowing," Julie said. "If we were to put him back in his body, the results could be disastrous. I can see it now as we speak. It's best to just leave him as is and not say a word about it. Alright?"

"How do you know he ain't listenin' to us now through the walls?" Misty asked.

"Because he's hungry. He's down in the dining room waiting for dinner," Julie said, using her psychic abilities to locate him. "Cordelia and Queenie prepared a roast with vegetables and strawberry shortcakes for dessert. We should get ready and go down." She looked to her nieces. "Wear one of your new dresses, girls. Dinner is about to be served."

* * *

David was given the honor of sitting at the other head of the table, and he was the only other present drinking the mead Julie prized so much as her favorite alcoholic beverage. Kyle was given the rest of the day off, and joined Zoe and Andrew at their part of the table wearing his dress shirt. Down the table from Julie's diagonal left were Chase, Misty, Clara, and Amy; down her diagonal right were Eleonora, Queenie, Cordelia, Zoe, Kyle, and their son Andrew. The roast, the finest cut of beef the market's butcher shop could offer, was seasoned with parsley and oregano, and sides including a vegetable medley and a baked potato were served. The appetizer, however, consisted of baked crab cakes, five of which David devoured like an animal. Eleonora was the first to glance down at the other end of the table to see him eat faster than the others, downing his chewed food with antique contentment.

"Hm, Miss Julie?" he asked. "What do you call this drink 'gain?"

"Honey mead," she said slowly. "I can see you are enjoying the crab cakes."

"Oh, yes'm. I am," David smiled, holding his wine glass full of the honey-colored liquid. "I knew this drink was strong, though."

"It's been aged," the Supreme replied. "The Old Norse drank it in hollowed-out horns. It's a spiritual experience for me, and perhaps for you, too."

"Aunt Julie?" Clara asked, looking down at her aunt as she watched her sip the glass. "Can I have some mead?"

"Oh, no, sweetie," Julie said with a chuckle at what she said. "Not until you're older."

"How old?" Clara asked with disappointment.

"I'll let you have your first cup at thirteen," Julie said. "I promise you."

"Ain't that a bit young, Miss Julie?" David said, peering at the other end of the table as he too ka sip of his beverage.

"Not in my book," she answered. "Back in those days, many girls were married at that age. I have no problem with it."

"With wee babes gettin' married at _thirteen_?" David asked with shock.

"No, no," Julie said. "Starting to drink at thirteen. It teaches a child moderation and responsibility when drinking."

"Huh," he scoffed, looking over at the two girls and focusing on Amy for a brief moment. "Moderation is just an illusion. Hell, look at _me_. They say the dead are light eaters, but I sure as hell ain't. When I was alive, my dad beat the Bible into me and warned me 'bout bein' a glutton. But hey, be happy with what's on your plate, I say. You may never get such an exquisite meal again."

"I prepared the meal, sir," Cordelia said politely. "Queenie helped."

"Well, you are mighty fine ladies for doin' so. Thank you," he said.

During the actual serving of the entrée, David stacked his plate, much to the shock of those sitting at the table. Amy's curious eyes stopped to observe the incubus' strange way of eating rapidly only to want more. He had five thick slices of the beef roast on his plate, drowning in the same au-jus gravy that smothered his butter-filled baked potato. The little girl gave the incubus a slight smile, giggling at the ridiculous amount of food stacked on his plate.

"Well, little miss," David finally said, "you find somethin' amusin'?"

"She's laughing because you're stuffing your face," Andrew said rudely.

"Hey!" Zoe said, nudging her son's arm roughly.

"Mom, I was just kidding!" he said.

"Don't be rude," she whispered.

"Oh, ma'am," David cut in, waving his hand dismissively. "He ain't bein' rude. He's just jealous 'cause he can't down more his lil' gullet than I can."

"You're dead, mister," Andrew responded crudely. "That's different. _I_'m alive."

"Like I said, we're reputed to be light eaters, but _my_ kind…" The incubus trailed off to drink his beverage, "we don't gotta eat to survive. When we do, we make it a _big_ affair, stackin' our plates to the cielin' and fillin' ourselves to oblivion."

"Wait," Misty cut in, having just swallowed a bite of her potato. "Your _kind_?"

"Yes, I'm surprised you ain't heard yet," David smiled. "I'm a demon."

Misty, Chase, Amy, Clara and Andrew gasped at the very word he admitted himself to be—demon. Images of eternal inferno, grotesque creatures with claw-like feet and bat-like wings, and pure evil ran through their minds. Misty shook her head and just when she threw her napkin on her barely-finished plate, the incubus pointed his fingers outward, sensing and controlling the amount of fear in those he saw it most in. When he looked at Amy, he saw tears in her eyes and felt a sharp, familiar pain in his heart.

"Sit down," he dictated. "We ain't done yet."

"If you're a demon," Andrew began, "where are your horns and tail?"

"Little man, I ain't _that_ kind of demon," David replied as Andrew sat back down in his seat.

"David," Eleonora said, looking down at the other end of the table at him. "_Really_?"

"I knew I felt bad vibes in this house," Misty whispered to herself.

"Ma'am, there ain't no reason to fear," David said, hearing the bohemian witch whisper to herself. "I ain't gonna hurt anyone."

"How can I be so sure you won't?!" Misty replied forcefully.

"_Shh_," David lulled softly, concentrating on her will and bending it so she wouldn't be afraid. "Just sit. Please."

Misty was influenced, as was everyone else at the table, to be silent and calm as David slowly stood up. He pulled a thick, Cuban cigar out of seemingly thin air and lit it with a Zippo lighter conjured from the same space. Taking a drag of the sweet tobacco, he looked at everyone individually for a moment, breathing out the smoke which filled the air like the aromatic incense Julie had burned during her divinations and trance workings. His eyes were penetrating and frighteningly calm; he was intimidating, yet a being to respect and honor wholeheartedly. Eleonora stared up at him, slightly nervous as he began to speak.

"I know y'all's frightened that I'm in your presence," David began, taking another drag of his cigar. "Truth is, I ain't gonna hurt you. _Any_ of you. However, if you wanna step in my way or do me wrong, I will be delighted to do _just that_." He paused, taking another drag. "I fit the description of the perfect man, the epitome of masculinity. In Eleonora's eyes, that is, 'cause she summoned me. May not have been willin' for an incubus like I, but I was called to it. She bound herself to me by fire 'n blood, and as far as me goin' away, it ain't gonna be so simple. I can't just leave here. I have a home here now. Can't just leave."

He took a drag, and the room was dead silent at the mercy of his power and his words.

"I was just like you when I was alive 'n livin'. I was a warlock. Not a born one, but I taught myself the magick I'd only master as I got older. I never got older. I died. I went up to Heaven, the angels reject me. They send me to Hell, and the devil don't want me down there. So I was stuck in limbo, changed to an incubus, and I been doin' my thing for a long time now. Sure, I killed many a married woman in her sleep, but I'm beyond that. I got a duty here to fulfill, and that is bein' there for Eleonora. She is my summoner, my mistress, and I'll serve her 'til she's no more."

"M-Mister?" Amy's petite-sounding voice asked as if she had never been afraid in the first place.

"Yes, little miss?" David asked in a gentlemanly manner.

"Do you love her?" Amy asked.

"Oh, darlin', yes," he smiled, making his way to the little girl slowly. She pulled out her chair and he crouched at her small knees, looking up into her oceanic, intense blue eyes. He found himself lost in them, and he smiled, taking a hand to her small, gorgeous face and moving her curls aside.

"My, my," he trailed off, thinking of his fair, beloved dead as he looked at her. _She looks like her_, he thought. "What a beautiful lil' girl you are. How old are you?"

"I'm five," she answered kindly.

"Hm," he muttered quickly. "You remind of someone I knew. She looked just like you, little miss."

"Huh?"

Before the little girl's confusion could be answered to, David disappeared before her eyes. The rest of the witches looked around, and then they looked at Eleonora, who stood up and left the room only to stop at the doorway.

"I'll find him," she said. "Just keep eating."

**A/N:**

**Sorry for the long chapter, guys! Imagine and consider that the overall ending may not be that bad! **

**And yes, I've decided that Hozier's _Take Me to Church_ will be David's theme song. I know, VERY ironic. :)**

**Thanks for following up on this story to those reading it.**

**Please keep the ****Review****s coming, as well as ****Favorite**** and ****Follow****!**

**Thanks guys! :3**


	10. Chapter 10

"David, what the _hell_ was that down there?" Eleonora asked forcefully after seeing him sprawled out lazily on her bed. The top of his dress shirt was slightly unbuttoned, revealing a hint of his sculpted chest.

"What was what, darlin'?" he asked, his head turned to look at the witch; he sensed aggravation streaked with fear, but he listened.

"Down _there_!" Eleonora said forcefully. "Scaring everybody, looking at that little girl the way you did! What is your problem?!"

"I ain't got no problem," he snided, "but 'pparently, _you_ do."

"She's only _five_!" she exclaimed in a hoarse screech. "_Five_!"

"Watch how you talk, woman," he said firmly. "You don't wanna make me angry."

"I'm not afraid of you, David," she stated calmly. "I don't want to cause any problems, but I'm warning you. You stay away from Clara and Amy. If you even _dare_ to put your _mitts _on them, I'll banish you myself."

"Whoa, that's a stretch," David chided, standing up and staring at her directly. "I wouldn't threaten me if I were you." He paused, and Eleonora looked down, her long, straight light blonde hair cascading down her face. "Besides, what makes you think I'd hurt a hair on their lil' heads?"

"Because of the way you looked at them," Eleonora responded. "Especially Amy."

"I was only admirin' her," David said, justifying his actions. "She's a very beautiful lil' girl."

"Listen to yourself!" the witch shouted, karate-chopping her hand lightly to add emphasis to her harsh voice. "Do you even realize or _care_ how disgusting you sound right now?!"

"You're exaggeratin' an awful much, Eleonora," David said. "I only prey on _women_, at least for the most part."

"_Most part_? Nuh-uh, David," she responded. "I won't have it!"

"I'm a demon," he scoffed. "What do you expect?"

There was a silence, and she looked at him in such a way that he read it clear enough to decipher exactly what she was feeling.

"Do you really think I would be smitten with a five year-old girl?" he asked. "I'm sixty-one."

Eleonora couldn't help but look at him with confusion and shock—_it isn't possible_, she thought.

"Yes, it is, darlin'," he smirked, reading her mind expertly. "I died at twenty-three, which is why I look so young. I am thirty-eight in incubus years, but I am sixty-one in human years."

"How the _hell_ do you figure that?" she asked.

"Incubus years is how long I've been this way. Thirty-eight years," he explained. "I'd be sixty-one today had I lived out my full human life. And no, I don't _love_ that little girl like I loved Elina. I admired her because she looks like Elina. That's all."

Eleonora felt like she was going to scream—Elina. Elina. Elina. The name had been mentioned way too much by the incubus. Granted, he was in love with her, but she began to question his feelings for whom he had in front of him. Did he really love his summoner? Or was his interest only on a physical level? Was his morbid obsession with her mother, so he claimed, consuming him whole?

"Is that _all_ you care about?!" she asked forcefully.

"Eleonora, you gotta understand," he began; she cut him right off.

"Understand what?!" she shouted. "That you have some sick, _morbid_ obsession with a dead lady?! My _mother_?!"

"It ain't morbid, 'cause I'm dead," David said.

"But still! I wanted a man to love _me_! That was why I casted that spell!" Eleonora cried out, tears flowing down her face as she sniffled. "I didn't want some demon obsessing over my mother! It's not fair!" She began to cry softly, her voice cracking as she spoke. "D-Do you even love me?"

"I do," he said, "but not in the same fashion as I did Elina. Elina was the love o'my life."

"Please," Eleonora said. "Spare me the heartache. Leave."

"Sugar, no can do," he told her. "You're bound to me by blood. I'm gonna stick by you 'til your dyin' day."

"If I'm your mistress, like you said," the witch sobbed, "I ask of you. _Please _leave me alone."

"Fine," he said softly. "All you had to do was ask nicely, sugar. See you t'morrow night."

"No, how about never?" Eleonora snapped.

"No can do," he said, fading out of sight. She bit her lower lip and grunted with frustration, sitting on her bed and tossing her body back to stare up at the ceiling.

_I have to banish him_, she thought, _there must be a way to get rid of him_.

* * *

"I have called this meeting to order."

Julie looked at the Council of Witchcraft, which was composed of Eleonora, Zoe, Queenie, Cordelia, Misty, and Chase, and stood before them authoritatively. Wearing what resembled a Norse-inspired costume with a blood-red chemise underneath an embroidered, black apron-like garment, a thin leather belt with a silver-toned buckle, engraved brass brooches at the apron straps, and red garnet beads strung at the neckline, she looked traditional to the origin of her spirituality. Eleonora had requested the meeting of the coven to discuss the matter at hand, and what measures they would take to rid them of the incubus' constant presence.

"Eleonora," Julie added, looking at her well-dressed sister. "Take my place up here."

Doing as told, the light blonde-haired woman stepped lightly with her kitten-heeled mules clacking against the floor in graceful stride as Julie took her old seat. Eleonora was dressed quite differently and perhaps even more low-key than Julie's Viking-inspired dress; a dress that had a hound's-tooth top with black bodycon from the waist down. Around her neck was a simple gold chain, and her hair was down and groomed neatly. She nervously took a sigh, looking from Julie to Chase to get her focus back on track.

"We have to get rid of David," she said quietly in an inaudible mutter.

"Uh, what?" Misty asked.

"Speak louder, please," Cordelia requested.

"I _said_," Eleonora replied, projecting her voice. "We have to banish David."

There was a silence—awkward enough for a cricket to start chirping out of nowhere. Minus the crickets. Eleonora meant business.

"Thought you loved 'im?" Misty asked.

"I realize I made a mistake," Eleonora admitted.

"We can look in the _Liber_," Julie encouraged. "Bring it over here."

Handing her younger sister the key to the chest holding the centuries-old grimoire, Eleonora walked to where it was kept and jutted the key into the hole, turning it and opening the top to see it there in its leather-bound glory. She took the book out and walked back to the table, where Julie opened the lock effortlessly. Skimming through the hundreds of pages worth of invocations, sigils, spells, potions, philters, and other occult secrets, she looked to the banishing section to see fringes from a page toward the inside binding of the book. Looking down strangely with the others, Julie flipped a page and noticed that there was a page missing.

"What the _hell_…" She muttered under her breath.

"There's a page missing," Eleonora said nervously.

"That was the page we would've needed," Julie said, shaking her head and looking through more similar types of banishing spells and incantations.

"D-Do you remember the name of the page? It's title?" Zoe asked, looking down and also noticing the torn-out page.

"I remember," Eleonora said. "It was entitled _Expello Daemonium_."

"Do you know it off the top of your head?" Zoe questioned.

"I…"

She blanked out suddenly, looking down at where the page for the corresponding spell was mysteriously torn out of existence.

"What's wrong?" the doe-eyed witch asked with concern.

"I…I _remembered_ it!" Eleonora exclaimed with shock at her sudden loss of memory at the spell's procedure and materials needed.

"Did you forget?" Chase asked.

"Ugh, yes!" she scoffed, putting a hand to her head. "Do _you_ remember it, Julie?"

Julie took a moment to remember, humming softly in a low monotone. He propped her elbow on the table as she sat, looking down at the open book where the page had been ripped out. She managed to remember that spell called for black salt, blessed holy water, an object of pure gold, as well as chalk to draw the Gnostic pentacle in the ritual space. Julie, once she was sure she remembered everything, tried to speak, but ended up mouthing the words voicelessly.

'_We need black salt, blessed holy water, a gold object, a piece of chalk_—'

"This bitch ain't talking!" Queenie said.

"What the hell?" Zoe asked.

"Julie?!" Chase exclaimed. "I'm scared! Talk to us!"

"What just happened?" Eleonora asked, her eyes widened in shock.

'_Why am I not hearing my voice_?' Julie mouthed.

"What?!" Eleonora exclaimed. "Talk!"

'_I can't! I can't control it_!' the Supreme's lips uttered voicelessly.

"She says she can't control it," Cordelia cut in, using her gift of Second Sight to effectively read her lips.

"What do you mean she can't?!" Queenie scolded. "How the _hell _is that happening?!"

"She says she doesn't know!" Cordelia replied frantically.

"Alright! Alright!" Eleonora called out, the commotion of the moment causing inner anxiety as a storm brewed inside. Misty rose from her seat, as did the others including Julie, who tapped on her throat with her fingers lightly to signify that something was clearly wrong. Suddenly, the troubled witch looked outside and saw raindrops beginning to fall on the windowpane.

_KA-CRASH!_

"Ah! Thunder!" Chase exclaimed, blocking his ears with his deformed hands. "Make it stop!"

"Chase, now ain't the time—" Misty said, being cut off by her husband's fearful tone.

"No! Stop! Make it stop! Eleonora!" he shouted.

"Quiet!" Zoe said powerfully.

"Chase, I'm sorry that happened. I couldn't help—"

"QUIET!" Zoe shouted; the commotion suddenly fell silent. "I _hear_ something!"

The witches remained silent, hearing the distant sound of children's laughter and a piano being played skillfully, powerful chords radiating a melody in E minor that was as mesmerizing as the suspected source. Misty recognized the giggling as that of her daughters', and Eleonora recognized the song while looking at Chase—strangely, he was attentive in listening to the piano playing.

"Chase," she whispered. "Go see what that is."

"But there's thunder," Chase replied.

"Chase?" Eleonora said between gritted teeth. "Go _do it_!"

"Don't be mean to me," her older brother whined.

'_No_!' Julie mouthed, her voice still absent; mute like a quiet television set.

Chase complied with the orders of his younger sister, walking slowly out of the room and down the hall, careful to dodge his fear of thunder as the rain continued to fall on the outside of the windows. Once the music came clear enough, his colorless gray eyes peered into the ancestry room to see none other than David, the incubus, playing the chords powerfully in an instrumental as Clara and Amy danced and twirled as if nothing was wrong. Gasping, he heard David's soulful baritone croon the lyrics to his song, remembering the melody from before;

"_If I'm a pagan of the good times,  
My lover's the sunlight.  
To keep the Goddess on my side,  
She demands a sacrifice.  
Drain the whole sea, get somethin' shiny,  
Somethin' meaty fo' the main course!  
That's a fine lookin' high horse…  
What you got in the stable?  
We've a lot of starvin' faithful_…"

"Amy! Make a spin!" Clara exclaimed, "you look so pretty when you twirl!"

The little girl's curling blonde hair swayed as she twirled, the skirt of her pink sundress making a bell as she lost herself in the music produced by David's swift, powerful fingers and his strong, belted vocals. The incubus took a glance back at the little girl, pretending Chase was not there, and looked forward at the keys before closing his eyes, flashes of fabricated memories appearing before his mind's eye:

* * *

_"__Mr. Darling, I can assure you that your daughter'll be kept safe and protected by me. I was raised a good Christian 'nd a gentleman. I know you ne'er really liked me, but I'm full grown now. I got a degree, I graduated, and now I'm more'n ready to settle down. I hope you'll consider when I ask you this—may I please have Elina's hand in marriage?"_

_Jimmy, Elina's father and a local farmer of lesser means than David's plantation-owning family, looked at him with his deep, dark eyes, calculating and analyzing him fully. The young man's hair was slicked and groomed neatly, and he was wearing a fine black casual suit over a white dress shirt—David sure looked presentable. The two were sharing a drink, but Britta, Jimmy's wife and Elina's mother, sat with just a cup of black tea, her grayless golden hair fastened in a crown braid with her verdant eyes directed at her husband._

_"__He loves our daughter," she said in her soft Swedish accent. "I think if Elina says so—"_

_"__No, you did the right thing coming to me," Jimmy said, "but I don't think I want my daughter to marry you, bub. Hit the road."_

_"__Oh, but Mr. Darling, if you could only understand how much your daughter means to me," David pleaded, "I'd be more'n grateful for you to be considerin' givin' me permission to propose to 'er."_

_"__Sorry, but I gave my answer," the older man said. "I said no, and that's final."_

_"__Mr. Darling, just gimme a chance to prove my worth!" David begged. _

_"__I'm a man, too, you know. We all got needs. I would know that for damn sure, and you're looking to satisfy them with my daughter," Jimmy said testily. "She's my pride and joy."_

_He suddenly looked at Britta, her ageless Nordic beauty frowning at him subtly as she sipped her tea. She glanced over at her husband, and David was curious what was on her mind for certain. When she began to speak, he gasped slightly, and Jimmy's deep, dark chocolate eyes looked back at her without question._

_"__Would you not be happy if our daughter was happy?" she asked, her sweet accent lacing her voice like silk. "He is a good Christian boy. He loves her. Allow him to ask of her hand in marriage. You will do so now."_

_David was stunned at the monotone, obedient response Jimmy gave to him and his wife: "There is no other man I'd rather give my daughter's hand to. She is yours."_

* * *

David smiled, keeping the powerful chords playing by his fingers as he let another false memory come to him, his illusion to escape along with the melodious harmony:

* * *

_"__Elina Darling," he said, "you don't know how long I been waitin' to ask you."_

_"__Ask me what?" she asked, her beautiful, sculpted face staring in his direction. Her long, platinum-blonde hair was braided down the length of her back, and her smooth, white skin seemed to glow in the sunlight. Her eyes, fiery and fierce, seemed to sparkle at him with a sort of tenderness he had never before felt from anyone. David took her hand gently, giving her a blood red rose._

_"__Every rose's got its thorn," he began, "but you're the one that'll never hurt. You're purity itself, a benediction from God. The moment I first seen you, I knew it was God's will that you be mine." _

_He paused to take a simple gold band with a single diamond solitaire out of his breast pocket; Elina gasped down at it and a smile slowly began to form between her parted, soft lips. _

_"__Will you marry me, Elina?"_

_"__D-David…" She seemed speechless._

_"__Please say yes," he said passionately. "I love you, and I'll cherish you everyday 'til the day we die. This I swear to the big man up in Heaven."_

_There was a moment of silence, the birds chirping beneath the apple tree Elina had been picking fruit from to help out on the farm._

_"__Yes," she finally said. "I will."_

_"__Oh, I'm so happy," he said, taking her into a loving embrace, feeling the heaving fullness of her breasts through her modest dress as he held her close to him._

* * *

He let himself get lost, pounding a few more passion-driven chords out of the piano as he pictured the next fabricated memory he often escaped to:

* * *

_"__I can take it from here, Mr. Darling," David said, looking at his pure, virgin bride dressed in white with a veil over her goddess-like face and covering her updo, her hair color just slightly darker than the shade of her ivory dress._

_Jimmy still held onto his daughter's lace-sleeved arm—Elina, trying to be kind to him, tried to ease her arm out of his so she could be with David at the altar in front of the pastor._

_"__Dad?" she asked. "You can let go now. It's time."_

_After a moment of reluctance on the part of the bride's father, Jimmy finally let his daughter go, sitting in the front pew with Britta while biting his lower lip bitterly on the verge of tears. David glanced over to see the older Swedish woman pat her husband on the shoulder._

_"__She is so beautiful," he heard her say, "is she not?"_

* * *

The incubus felt a tear form in his eyes as the memory sped up; he smiled as he hummed deeply to the tune he was playing:

* * *

_"__I now pronounce you man and wife," the pastor said. "You may kiss the bride."_

_David, with a closed smile on his face, lifted the veil to reveal Elina's beauty as he stared down into her embers for eyes, hazel and burning tenderly with love. She bit her lower lip gently as he leaned in to kiss her; a simple peck in the eyes of the conservative church congregation._

_"__I love you," he said. "Mrs. Loring."_

* * *

He softened the tune, seeing more in his mind as he heard the little girls giggling and dancing to the music he was playing in E minor:

* * *

_"__I didn't hurt you, did I?" David asked, holding Elina's voluptuous, creamy white form close to him. Her nude breasts pressed against his sculpted male form, pink nipples still pert from the heat of the first climax that consummated their marriage._

_"__Not really," she whispered, biting her lower lip as her new husband leaned down to kiss her with fiery passion._

_"__Hmm," he purred. "It'll be better, darlin'. Just gotta give it a few more tries, that's all."_

* * *

As he snapped out of his reverie of daydreams, David turned sharply behind him and got off the piano bench as he witnessed Chase speaking with his daughters. Staring at Amy with the protectiveness of a father of normal intelligence, he felt a rage begin to boil within that was beyond anything he had ever felt before. He felt his nonexistent heart begin to rapidly beat against his ghostly ribcage, and his lip trembled with ferocity only attainable by the lustful passion he had endowed and killed women with in the past as an incubus.

"Daddy, he plays beautiful! I don't wanna go!" Clara replied with a whine.

"Please! We wanna stay!" Amy begged.

"No, no," Chase said. "You can't talk to him. He's a _bad _man."

"Who're you callin' a bad man?" David sneered, his fists clenched tightly only to open back up again. "If you really spoke your mind, you'd be speechless! Hell, it's a laugh watchin' you fit all your vocabulary in once sentence."

"Clara, Amy," Chase said, ignoring him, "we have to get away from the weird man, now."

"Huh," David scoffed. "My, my, you gotta have a real low opinion of people to think they's your equals."

"Daddy, I wanna stay!" Clara whined. In the meantime, Chase already gathered Amy up in his arms, picking her up off her feet.

"No, no," he said, scurrying them out of the room. "He's a _weird_ man. We got to get away from the weird man. He's bad…"

Chase's voice became faint as he hurried his daughters away from the presence of the incubus, and David felt every last nerve being hit in his body as his fury grew. He felt a fire burn within, roaring through him as he gritted his teeth and formed fists so tight he couldn't relax them to the normal flatness of a hand. Even sensing the possibility of Eleonora banishing him with the help of the coven was enough to send him over the edge. There was no turning back—the inner demon was starting to be released.

**A/N:**

**The italic parts while David is playing, again, ****_Take Me to Church_****(his theme song, as I've decided), those are more like ****daydreams ****or ****false memories****that he escapes to. Think of it as a glimpse into an alternate timeline where Britta didn't die and Elina married David instead of Nick. As you know, none of this happened and Helen/Elina married Nick and had Eleonora.**

**I want to give special thanks to **Weezy815 **for her astounding reviews! Greatly appreciated as always.**

**I created a Wattpad account, so go check that out. The link is on my profile's main page, so go check it out there for updates! :3**

**Please kindly leave a ****Review****, and be sure to ****Favorite****, ****Follow ****and even ****Share ****with your friends!**

**Stay tuned and happy reading! 3**


	11. Chapter 11

NOTE: _Contains mature content. Discretion is advised._

* * *

At sunset the following day, Chase decided that he needed alone time away from his daughters, his wife, and the coven. His bare, near-perfect feet were planted on the golden, warm sand as he made his way slowly toward the beach's shoreline. His colorless, storm-colored eyes stared out beyond the horizon; he concentrated with a calm mind, closing his eyes as he too ka breath and willed for the waves to increase in size. Upon opening his eyes, he could see that the surf had only grown in size, generous amounts of blue-green ocean water crashing against his lower legs and feet as he smiled.

With a coy, childlike giggle, Chase leaned down to see a medium-sized crab with a bright orange outer shell, dot-like eyes jutting from its body as it crawled all over the damp, compact sand of the shoreline. As the crustacean snapped its claws in the air, Chase watched it and took his deformed hands out of his pockets, holding them out toward the sea creature.

"Hello, friend," he said quietly, welcoming the shelled crustacean into his split cleft hands that were cupped slightly.

_Snap-snap…_

Chase smiled down at the crab, admiring its bright, carrot-colored shell as its heavily-guarded legs crawled with abandon over his malformed extremities. It did not snap, did not pinch—the crab was content in the weak warlock's hands.

"Aw, you grew up," he cooed. "You're so cute!"

_Snap-snap…_

The crab seemed to communicate with the man by snapping his claws up in the air and moving rapidly. Chase giggled, kissing the top of the orange shell before setting it back on the damp sand to make his way back to his aquatic ecosystem.

"Go home, little friend," he smiled. "I'll bring you food next time."

Before walking down the shoreline with his feet partially in the moving water, he induced a calmer tide by holding out his hand. As the tide's intensity subsided, he continued to walk along the beach with his hands back in his pockets.

* * *

Back at the academy, Julie walked back and forth as she saw that the sun had set even more outside her bedroom window. She had just taken a bath for purposes of purification using a specially-enchanted soap made with protective herbs. Her voice had returned the night before, but she was still trying to figure out why the chaos happened during their council meeting.

_Is the demon affecting our memories?_

_Did he rip out the page from the_ Liber_?_

_Did that wretched demon mess with my ability to speak?_

_Luckily I remember everything that the spell called for. Now to remember the chant…_

Julie's voice, a faint whisper as she recalled the words, spoke softly to herself as she paced slowly:

"Caeli Deus, Deus terrae, humiliter majestati gloriae tuae supplicamus…"

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps caught her attention and the feeling of warm air; turning around the Supreme saw nothing. She spoke slightly louder, clasping her hands together:

"Ut ab omni infernalium spirituum potestate, laqueo, et deceptione nequitia…"

The sound came again, and Julie, feeling nervous, shook her head and continued to recall the incantation buried in her memory; this time, her voice was at the normal pitch and noise level:

"Omnis fallaciae, libera nos, dominat, exorcizamus et omnis immundus spiritus…"

It was after the final Latin phrase that Julie heard something similar to a heartbeat, radiating prominently and loud enough for her to hear and get scared about. Biting her lower lip, she faced the open doorway and backed up slowly against her full-length mirror. Reaching out telepathically to any entity that might have been near, she felt every nerve wrack viciously through her being as she felt her lightly-clothed back just barely brush the mirror's reflective surface. She then felt what seemed to be a hand touch her shoulder, and she jumped and turned around.

"AH!" she screamed.

Instead of seeing her own reflection, it was the image of a young man with a naturally radiant magnetism about him. The Supreme peered into the mirror with horror to see David smirking devilishly with his face tilted into a Kubrick-styled stare. He surely was intimidating, but irresistibly handsome—from his purposely-messed brown hair to his crystal clear blue eyes; from a chiseled face cut like glass to his shirtless, strappingly muscular frame with broad, manly shoulders and good posture, her gaze seemed to be sucked in as tunnel vision developed. Seeing the incubus grit his teeth, he glared at Julie long and hard before merging out of the mirror.

"Did I frighten you, ma'am?" he asked sarcastically. "My apologies."

Julie said nothing, looking at him with her stormy gray, soulful eyes; however, she suddenly spoke while looking at him.

"Leave," she stated. "You aren't welcome here."

"Well, 'scuse _me_, Miss Julie, but you ain't my summoner," he sneered, "so you just run 'long now."

"I am authority in this place!" Julie shouted. "I ban—"

"Ugh, you lil' witch-bitches make me sick!" he raged. "Thinkin' you own the world and that you got it at the palm of your lil' hands!" He stopped and pointed his finger at her, poking her roughly with each point, and easy task given that she was only and inch or two shorter than he. "Y'all think I got no brain in my head, but I _know_ why y'all met yesterday. You wanna get rid o'me."

"Yes, we do," Julie said. "It is Eleonora's will, and as a coven, we need to keep safe. Having a demon around not only endangers us, but it is dangerous to the students as well."

"_Pfft_," he scoffed, tossing his hand to the side dismissively. "I've seen all your students here. They don't suffice. Plus, I was summoned by Eleonora to serve her and give her the pleasures a normal, _livin'_ man wouldn't be able to give her."

Julie remained silent, biting her tongue and controlling her powers within as David continued to belittle her, controlling her spiritually-capacious mind to listen to every word he said.

"Aw, sugar," he whispered, circling her slowly. "You's just _jealous_, hm?"

"I'm not jealous," Julie replied quietly.

"Oh, Miss Julie," David purred cruelly, "if you's gonna lie, be good at it." He looked at her up and down, seeing her voluptuous, womanly form illuminated by her long, white chemise-style nightgown. "Hm, what a woman you are. The Supreme of a coven, but five feet and nine inches of all _woman_. I'm surprised you been keepin' yourself celibate. You're like a nun. Your devotion to this coven 'nd academy runs pretty deep, don't it? Or…" He circled her counterclockwise, stopping to whisper in her ear, "you just ain't willin' to love another man."

Julie gulped—_how dare he_, she thought.

"Stop it. Right now," the Supreme stated clearly with force.

"Why should I, darlin'?" he asked, smirking with his pearly whites coming to prominence. "Why should you struggle to forget the man you loved? He was everythin' you ever wanted, and you ain't happy without 'im." He paused and looked at her. "Oh, I know, darlin', of the tragedy you faced. Hell, even your brother cried a river." He whispered in her other ear when he came to it, "I know everythin', Miss Julie. He was everythin' to you, m'dear. Hm…dark hair the normal way...smolderin' blue eyes…a little fur on his chin…six feet, five inches…huge, strappin' man with muscles…and of all, a crummy Viking wannabe. Yet you mastered everythin' 'cause of him. Y'all was engaged, and wanted to run off to Norway t'gether. Let me think…" He knew exactly what he was saying, but pretended to think things over. "Kormakur…does that name _mean_ anythin' to you, m'dear?"

In tears, Julie felt so vulnerable. Tired of fighting the tears back into her eyes, she collapsed to the floor and wept in her snow-white hands, letting them flow free without the worry of the drops freezing to her face. David looked down and watched as she wailed senselessly, feeling her heartbreak and tears as he thought of Elina—I know what you feel, he thought to himself in a guarded state of mind as he leaned down to pat her shoulder to try consoling her. Julie took her hands away from her face and looked at him with red, puffy eyes as she sobbed heavily.

"I know your pain, darlin'," he revealed. "I lost the love o'my life myself."

"Oh, what do _you_ know?!" she cried out. "You're just a demon."

"Hm, I know _all_," David whispered. "Bein' what I am, I could fulfill _every_ desire you've ever had, _every_ desire you've been suppressin' for all this time. You've done your part, Julie. You've made sure stuff was gettin' taken care of. You've taken mighty good care o'your brother. He's got a soft heart and a head to match, but hey, you don't got nothin' to do 'bout it. He ain't gonna get any smarter. But as for you…"

Julie gasped at the sensation of his seductive hands fondling her full breasts, moaning softly from their sensitivity. David took delight in the sensation of her tender, moon-white fullness beneath his hands as he skillfully ran his thumbs over her clothed, pert, rosy peaks. As she tossed her head back in pleasure, giving into it all by his sweet coercion, David kissed the side of her lithe neck and whispered every word against it.

"They say woman's a whole, yes?" he began, questioning her as he took delight in her indulgent moaning. "With all the weight o' the world pourin' into her. Hm…" He purred, gently biting the sweet spot at the crook of her neck from behind, causing her to cry out softly in an ecstatic sigh, "how much can you take, Miss Julie? All these years wasted, flowin' down the drain. All these nights wishin' somethin' would happen only to be disappointed in what you got in front o'you."

_Tsk, tsk, tsk_, he sounded slowly next to her neck, his strangely warm breath against her icy skin as she moaned. She glanced down to see David's right hand pull up the bottom of her chemise nightgown, caressing her thighs in the process before taking two fingers to the base of her panties. Closing her eyes, Julie leaned back again as she felt circles being traced over the very spot she had neglected to pleasure for so long. Her glossy lips parted in a slight smile as David reached beneath the soft fabric for direct stimulation.

"Ah!" she moaned.

"Hm…I can tell you want it, Miss Julie," David purred enticingly. "Hm, use me. I can take it. I can take your pain and throw it all away. Don't fight yourself anymore, darlin'. Let _me_ be the one to feed off your pain. Do it now. Use me…"

"Oh, David!" she panted, "you're right! Oh, I need it! Give it to me! Please!"

"Oh, yes, Julie…"

She turned around and looked into his penetrating light blue eyes and kissed him with passion; David held her close and whole-heartedly, moving lower to attack her neck's sweet-spot with kisses as she tossed her head back. Seeing her icy blonde hair, he thought of Elina, whose color was only slightly darker as a platinum blonde. He then proceeded to claw her chemise off ravenously with abandon, feeling her winter-cold body heat up in the moment of passion, tossing it aside. Julie held him close even as she felt his mouth attack one of her light pink summits at the peaks of her full, creamy rounds.

"Ohh!" she cried in a frenzied sigh, running her fingers through his brown hair as his tongue probed her erect bud before releasing it with a noisy suckling noise. He looked down, holding both heaving weights in his hands and squeezing them.

"Oh, soft…and round…" he muttered. "My, you really _are_ a helluva woman, Julie."

"Oh, I need you inside me," she pleaded with desperate want. "Don't tease me anymore…oh…oh yeah…"

"Hm, but I _know_ there's somethin' else you're just beggin' to feel inside you," he hummed.

"Huh?" She was too confused by the heart-stopping anticipation of carnal pleasure to even think about what he meant.

David eased himself on top of her, laying her back on the white carpeted floor as she begged him for what she really wanted. However, he was fully aware of what she _needed_; he eased her panties off her voluptuously wide hips, tossing them aside prior to caressing her curvaceous thighs. Parting them, he maintained eye contact with her soulful gray orbs and positioned his hands on the flesh of her hips, leaning down to give the bone mound above her femininity a gentle, teasingly slow kiss.

"Ah…oh David…I want you inside me!" she begged. "Please! I want it! Give it to me! _Please_!"

"Hm, that ain't what you _need_, sugar," he said, taking two fingers and feeling the excessive river of love pouring from her soaking entrance. "I _know_ what you need."

As she saw him lower his head between her legs, Julie let out a cry of burning desire as she felt his tongue pleasuring her, running slowly and flat over her slick, swollen pink lips. She could feel his fingertips just barely grazing her entrance, but his tongue alone instantly satisfied every tumultuous desire she had been repressing for so long. David continued to taste her, teasing her sensitive bundle of nerves with his tongue before submerging it in her coiling liquid heat.

"Dav…David!" she shouted. "Oh! My gods! It's amazing!"

His tongue seemed to probe deeper, curving slightly upwards as he aimed to get a certain internal erogenous zone; Julie was nearly over the edge, but as she watched what he was doing, she held her breasts and squeezed them gently.

"David….oh!"

He loved the way she tasted—earthy, like a fresh cup of sweet summer tea, but with a slightly salty finish and an intoxicating aroma that pleased all his senses. Pulling his tongue out of her depths, a string of saliva and her love juices connecting the two parts of their bodies, David used his other hand to gently lift the piece of skin that covered her most sensitive external area and ran his tongue flat over it, making her scream with delight as she felt his other pair of fingers enter her.

"OH! GODS!" she cried out.

"Hmm." His purr sent a vibration through her body as he alternated between releasing and capturing her nub greedily between his eager lips, which was enough to send her over the edge to climax including that he was gently pressing his fingers upward inside her.

"I'm…close! Oh please! David! Let me come?!" she begged.

"Don't beg, darlin'," he finally said, "do it. I can take it."

Julie was seeing white as she tossed her head back, writhing in ecstasy as he finished her off, licking whatever sweet nectar she had secreted before going back up to her and burying his face in the crook of her neck. Suddenly, the Supreme felt a something huge, girthy and throbbing stretch her walls out. He's an amazing lover, she thought, why couldn't I summon my own incubus? This is amazing!

"Oh, yes!" she screamed.

"Hmm, you feel amazing," he moaned with a few delayed, initial thrusts of his girthy length. "My, my…for forty, you're tight…"

"Please! Faster!" she begged.

"Hm, way ahead o'you, darlin'," he panted.

His thrusting grew more powerful as Julie's breath became more labored. Her moaning went from soft and quiet to loud and uninhibited in minutes as his excessively deep-delving plunges washed over her in the form of waves. She could feel his hands venture to her fleshy hips to grab onto the soft, cream-white tissue before they slid down to her round buttocks, squeezing as he bucked his hips into hers and pounded her even harder and faster than she could take it. The Supreme squealed with excitement as she felt the tip of him hitting the brink of her womb and a swollen, more secretly hidden part of her upper wall.

"I'm about to…oh, I'm close! Oh!" she shouted.

"Hm, me too, babe. Me too! Oh yes!" he screamed. "Don't it feel so much better?! Yeah! _Scream_! I made the others all deaf to us! They can't hear us! _Scream_, I say!"

Being a demon, he could not climax like a mortal man could, and but when he did, his long, thick, throbbing member still stood erect. Julie took a few more minutes to reach her moment of transcendence, feeling her soul escape her body as she submitted to the unearthly, nearly sinful pleasures given to her by the demon. Once she regained her consciousness, her mortal form opened her eyes to see that David was no longer above her. She smirked, blinking her eyes and subconsciously crawling over to the full-length mirror.

Aside from the detailed reflection of the heaving dangle of her ample, white bosom, she looked and saw that her eyes had turned the same color as those of the incubus—light blue and crystal clear. It was as though the stormy gray clouds had parted to make room for a beautiful, clearly azure sky.

The eyes were not hers.

**A/N:**

**So what happened to Julie after her "affairs" with David? Where will it go from here?**

**Please leave ****Review****s, ****Favorite ****and ****Follow****!**

**Thanks so much and stay tuned for more to come! :)**


	12. Chapter 12

"Misty! Misty! I was at the beach and I saw a crab and—"

Chase, after having walked through the academy's front door, looked around to see that it was dead quiet in the front atrium of the large manor that housed the council, the Supreme, and the pupils. His colorless gray eyes looked around curiously, trying to find a sign of someone's presence as he walked slowly toward the hallway.

"Hello?" he asked. "Misty? Julie? Where is everybody?"

He walked toward the end of the atrium and to the side hallway, his eyes wandering about curiously as he searched for a sign of anyone's presence. The academy seemed desolate, dead, and empty, as if he were entirely alone. Not even any students were out of their rooms, walking like they most usually did in their well-chosen finery. Taking a sigh, he bit his lower lip and became anxious before finally going toward the ancestry room, where he gasped at a frightening, unusual sight.

"J-Julie?" he asked with disbelief.

The Supreme sat seductively on the most comfortable lounge chair in the room, a leg crossed over the other as she held a shot glass full of hard, bourbon whiskey and tipped it between her lips. Her body tattoos, inked in black against her icy-white skin, were showing as she glowed in gray lace lingerie consisting of only a bra and transparent panties. Her legs were covered from the thigh down with elastic-banded black stockings and the appearance of her long gams was made more slender by the silver, strappy stilettos on her feet. Her hair, usually maintained neatly, was untamed and free-flowing, the length reaching to the upper part of the cups of the bra that contained her heaving bosom. Her wispy white fringe was brushed to the side and pinned back, making her heart-round face look smaller and more youthful than it really was. Surrounding her on the table was an empty pizza box, platters with cleaned animal bones possibly from servings of meat, and three bottles of bourbon that were at varying points of emptiness.

"Julie?" he repeated.

"Hm," Julie purred. "I never knew you mortals…uh!" She stopped herself, trying to speak normally. "I mean, _guys_ ate this much!"

"Julie, you look very different," he noticed. "Where are your clothes?"

"Let's just say that it got a lil' hot in here," the Supreme replied nonchalantly. Chase looked at her strangely—it didn't take a brain in his head to know that something was very unusual with his fraternal twin sister's behavior. Also, she sounded different yet strikingly familiar—what was going on?

"And...y-you sound different, Julie," he stated. "Are you sick?"

"I ain't sick, " Julie said condescendingly; she was never known to speak in this fashion toward anyone even if she was angry. "You're sick."

"N-No, I'm not!" he exclaimed.

"Sure y'are!" Julie snapped, slurring slightly after taking another sip of bourbon whiskey to her lips; he even noticed the drink was not something she normally indulged in. "Damn it! You talk like you was dropped on your head too many times as a wee babe!"

Feeling tears of hurt feelings flood his eyes, Chase sniffled and looked at her with disbelief in his horrified, colorless gaze. His lower lip trembled, and he whined softly in response to his sister's shocking treatment toward him. Julie had always been kind and charitable to her brother, and was protective of him in the orphanage they grew up in and even after that. She was the one who guided him through his life when their social worker-foster mother couldn't, and she taught him the meaning of self-acceptance, especially with his severe ectrodactyly and his lower-than-average intelligence. He was never so confused in all his life.

"Why are you being mean, Julie?" he sobbed. "You're so nice to me, Julie! Why are you being mean, Julie? Did I make you mad? If I did, I am sorry, Julie!"

"Hm," Julie droned; even that was strange to hear her doing that. "You ain't pissed your sister off. You pissed _me_ off!"

"Uh…" Chase was speechless and even more bewildered than before; why was she talking in third person with herself? "W-_What_?"

Suddenly, he felt his brain flash possibilities of why she had been acting so harshly toward him. He moved closer, looking from her ice-blonde hair to the luster of her shiny, silver straps on her heels, with tears streaming down his boyish, youthful face as she glared up at him with a strangely blue gaze; her eyes were normally gray.

"You sound like the bad man, Julie," he whispered, "the one we are trying to banish from the house."

"Ugh!" the Supreme said with Chase noticing her pale, tattooed arm reach down for something. "You're startin' to piss me off, you lil' pigly son m' bitch!"

"J-Julie?" he asked, noticing the peculiar eye color shown in her gaze. "Y-Your eyes aren't gray anymore. They're blue. They're never bl—"

_HACK!_

At that moment, Chase screamed bloody murder at the intensely excruciating sensation of the sharpened wedge of an axe chop into his left thigh; there was a clean cut right through the bunches of muscle fibers, blood oozing generously out of the severed flesh. He collapsed to the floor in agony, still in shock over his twin's barbaric behavior.

"JULIE! STOP!" he shrieked, blood pouring on his deformed hands. "SOMEONE HELP!"

_SWING-slice!_

Chase's excessive screams and cries of excruciating, blood-curdling pain ended when Julie dealt the blow that ceased all life within him. The axe's sharp bit had been forcefully whacked against her twin brother's chest in such a way that it was nestled between two of his ribs, slicing his lung partially in half before she pulled it out and dealt more fatal blows.

_WHACK!_

Deep and right below his collarbone.

_SLICE!_

The sharp bit went into the sparse flesh of his abdomen, dealing another fatal blow that made blood spurt from the man's mouth.

_HACK!_

The next blow cleaved the front of Chase's head nearly in two; meanwhile, Julie's scantily-clad body was covered in blood spatters.

_SLICE!_

The next blow chopped one of the malformed, cleft hands clean off his body.

Julie took the axe away from her twin's mutilated corpse, tossing it on the floor as she collapsed to her knees, feeling suddenly faint enough to fall into a deep sleep of sorts. With blood seeping from Chase's body and covering Julie's skimpy outfit choice consisting of a bra, panties, hose, and silver strappy heels, it was a scene out of a horror movie, quite literally.

It was when Julie regained her consciousness just minutes later that she realized the horrors of the carnage around her. Seeing herself covered in blood spatters, she began to panic intensely, but the brunt of her misery was expressed when she saw Chase's lifeless, hacked-up body laying stationary on the floor. Sanguine fluid seeped in a huge puddle around his dead body, and seeing the soiled axe on the floor next to her, she screamed as loud as she could as tears painfully froze to her face.

"AAAAHHHHHHH!"

She rushed over to Chase, trying to hold him while hoping for a response, giving his bloodied face a slight slap to get him to budge; _this cannot be_, she thought, _who did this_? But of course, she had no recollection of what had happened.

"_CHASE!_ OH! Please! Please wake up! Wake _up_!" she shrieked. "NO!"

Another glance over at the bloodied axe was enough to blame herself for his gruesome murder even though she did not actually have any memories of killing him.

"CHASE!" Her screaming was mixed with whining, sobbing with great grief. "No…no...no…I am so sorry, Chase! I…I don't know…what h-happened! I didn't kill you! Forgive me! Forgive me, please! I'm begging your spirit! If I killed you, please forgive me!" she exclaimed with heavy sobbing, burying her face in one of his fresh, fatal flesh wounds only to get more blood on her face. "No! Please!"

When she took her blood-covered face away from her brother's corpse, she called out for help, distressed and desperate. Resurgence, she thought, Misty can bring him back. Eleonora, even.

"MISTY! ELEONORA! SOMEONE!" she screamed. "HELP! HELP!"

As the Supreme sobbed into a non-mutilated part of her brother's body, she heard distant footsteps draw near even though her heart was in too much pain to look and see who it was. Chase being murdered was something she simply could not process; it was like a part of her had died also; a piece of her heart had gone missing without a trace. Her icy tears began to freeze in the wounds of his corpse before Julie picked her head up to see a shocked, almost livid Misty standing there with her hands over her mouth.

"Wh…" She was too shocked to talk, "what _happened_?"

Julie saw the anguish in the voice of her brother's newly-widowed wife, and gasped for air as she felt faint, caused by the excessive stress and extreme emotions of the moment.

"Misty! PLEASE! You_have_ to bring him back! PLEASE!" she screeched.

The flaxen-haired bohemian witch looked over to see that the axe clearly had bloody handprints wrapped around the polished, lacquered wooden handle. She glared at Julie intensely with disbelief, shaking her head—yes, she was willing to bring back her husband and nurse his wounds, but she suddenly knew who killed him.

"You ice-hearted _bitch_!" she hissed irately. "You _killed_ him!"

"NO!" the Supreme shrieked frantically. "I DIDN'T! I _SWEAR_! I don't remember _ANYTHING_ that happened! I don't know who killed him! I BLACKED OUT! I SWEAR!"

"Puttin' my trust in you as our leader was a _big_ mistake!" Misty scowled. "YOU _KILLED _MY HUSBAND! Your _OWN BROTHER_!"

"MISTY! I WOULD _NEVER_ DO SUCH A THING! I DIDN'T KILL HIM!" Julie screamed. "You _HAVE_ to BELIEVE ME!"

"Then WHO DID?!" Misty shouted.

"I…I don't know!" the Supreme sobbed frantically, taking her excessively bloody hands to her face as she put Chase's mutilated body back down in the puddle of red bodily fluid. "I…I don't remember anything! I don't remember—"

"How could you _not _remember taking an _AXE_ to his _BODY_?!" Misty screamed. "ARGH!"

"I don't know! _I DON'T KNOW_!" the Supreme screeched, holding up her hands to see how much blood had been resting there from her blacked-out murder of her own brother. "I BLACKED OUT! I SWEAR! I DO _NOT _KNOW WHAT HAPPENED! I would _NEVER_ hurt Chase! I would_NEVER_ kill _ANYONE_! I did NOT do it!"

"I don't even wanna waste my breath _or_ my magick on you!" Misty screamed. "I'm gon' do you with hands!"

Just when Julie was about to give her response, she felt faint and her vision became blurry for a moment. Misty seemed to be actually two entities in the room before she finally regained her vision. The new widow cracked her knuckles and gasped to see the change in Julie's eye color—it went from soulful, stormy gray to a penetrating, clear blue that seemed too familiar for words to describe. Julie rose to her feet and grabbed the bloodied axe in her hands, staring at Misty with a Kubrick-like stare that was both intimidating and tempting her to attack right then and there.

"Fine, woman." There was a distinct change in the Supreme's voice, "you wanna do me with your hands? Fine! Just rem'mber, they made Eve from a rib!"

Julie took a sideways swing of the axe, which Misty dodged before attacking below the waist, making Julie drop the deadly-wedged weapon as she was forcefully backed against the wall. She closed her hands in tight fists, powerfully punching Misty's back before she recuperated to pin her wrists to the wall and nearly hold her neck in a choking motion with her stronger hand.

Yet Julie did the opposite—putting her hands on her head at the temples, she concentrated enough to weaken Misty and even suck out her powerful resurgent abilities as they struggled. The flaxen-haired witch's grip felt looser around her neck as she struggled to resist the reduction of her power's potential, but a single punch broke Julie's nose so much it looked like she was disfigured.

"You're _weak_, Misty!" Julie screamed, in tears from the intense pain of the broken nose on her face. "Is that all you got?!"

"Oh, yeah?!" the other witch shouted, rushing over to the fallen axe and flinging it strategically at Julie—it was no easy task due to its weight, but the blade dug itself into Julie's right hip, causing her to bleed out and scream as she limped, pulling it out as blood gushed from the site of the wound.

"AH!" she shouted. "Damn, woman! You best be gettin' to Hell now!"

_WHACK!_

Misty's first axe wound was swung at her shoulder—screaming bloody murder, she felt the blood trickle down her arm and gush out to cover that side of her curling, ever so lovely hair, making it sticky and stale-smelling.

"OW! _OW_! AHH!" she screamed with tears in her eyes. "_HELP_! JULIE'S GONE CRAZY!"

"Oh, good luck with _that_ one, sugar!" Julie shouted, the strange voice sounding even more familiar. "It'll fall on deaf ears! It was my will to make it so!"

_SLICE!_

Misty was nearly beheaded by the axe, but when she stopped the blow and leaned back, there was a huge slice in the side of her hand that went as deep as the mid-palm, cutting through bone and tendon as blood continued to gush from the new wounds inflicted on her body.

"OW! _BITCH_!"

Misty then kicked Julie in the abdomen, sending her on her back and letting the axe fall, yet again, on the floor. The witch made no reservations in grabbing the axe and slamming it down into the length of her thigh, blood gushing out with pressure as it sprayed up on Misty's clothing and skin.

"_AHH_! Damn it!" Julie screamed. "You fight like a woman! Bitch!"

Taking the axe and tossing it aside so it was far from Julie's reach, she bled much more when Misty straddled her and did as promised—she did her with her hands, holding her in a violently-aggressive chokehold which was forceful enough to probably make her feel faint—but it didn't work. The once again-fallen axe suddenly flew over to Julie, who held the handle and managed to kick Misty off of her and swing for her head—the blade just barely grazed her scalp, and didn't wound her too much; meanwhile, her thigh was bleeding profusely and excessively to the point of nearly passing out.

While Misty was down, Julie dealt the final blow—the axe's bit chopped into the side of her neck, hitting a major artery as blood spurted out and the dying witch let a blood-curdling, weak scream escape her lips. Sanguine fluid was spraying everywhere, but by the time Chase's widow had been killed by the blow, Julie looked to see that blood covered almost every surface, wall, and piece of furniture in the ancestry room.

Julie blacked out—this time, she never woke up

Yet David, the survivor, the witness, the perpetrator, and the victor, merged out of the body of the Supreme, whom he had seduced and possessed to do such a heinous act as killing her own brother. In his physical form once again, he looked down at the carnage he had caused—Julie had bled to death from the axe cutting into an artery in her leg, Misty died of the same blow that had slashed a major vessel in her neck, and Chase was hacked to death with an ever-flowing pool of blood around his body.

_Guess I killed three birds with one stone_, he thought, walking through the pools of blood and not getting soiled, this is the perfect punishment, _ain't nothin' better'n this_. _Let's see 'er try and rise from the dead again. I have her power now. I got more work to do_… His thoughts trailed off…_but this mess gotta be cleaned_.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Lots of blood and gore in this chapter! Sorry if you're squeamish. It's taken me forever to update because I've been working and stuff. **

**I bet you didn't see the deaths of Julie, Chase and Misty coming...well, surprise! We can only imagine what will come next… .**

**The fight between demon-possessed Julie (yeah, in case you didn't notice, David possessed her) and Misty was inspired by Stephen King's ****_Needful Things_****. Good movie; read the book, too.**

**Kindly leave a ****Review****, ****Favorite ****and ****Follow****!**

**Stay tuned! :3**


	13. Chapter 13

Eleonora couldn't hear for a time, strangely enough—all of a sudden she went point deaf. During this time, she managed to pen down her innermost feelings by channeling them into a poem. When she was able to hear again, she decided to go down into the ancestry room to see Julie—in the evenings, she always was down there relaxing. Eleonora was still dressed in her business casual clothing from the day, and her stilettos clacked down the grand staircase as she came into the sight of the bloody carnage and the beginnings of the stench of decomposition.

Seeing the corpses of Julie, Chase and Misty was enough to fling her mind into the depths of insanity, much like throwing a Frisbee to a dog. The fright was as intense as the outrage—blood was spattered generously and puddles were beneath the corpses; Misty and Julie had both bled to death from their wounds in a struggle, while Chase's body was hacked to death with one of his cleft hands chopped off from the axe that claimed his life. Eleonora nearly collapsed to her knees as she let out a blood-curling scream.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

As the tears began to flow down her face to express her grief, the footsteps of Zoe, Queenie, Cordelia and the butler Kyle neared to the area behind her. Each of them looked at the dead bodies immersed in the bloody mess that consumed the ancestry room. Zoe even gasped upon seeing the fatal hack wounds on the corpses, taken aback before a tear streamed down her face. Cordelia saw everything with her Second Sight, putting a hand to her chest. Queenie was in tears, but even more afraid of all the blood everywhere. Kyle, on the other hand, was expressionless but still without belief regarding the events.

"I….don't…believe it," he muttered.

"WHO DID THIS?!" Eleonora screeched, walking into the room while dodging the puddles of blood near her feet.

"I…I don't know," Zoe whispered, beginning to cry from the losses. "We…we have to clean this."

"Oh my god…" Cordelia whined tearfully, using her Second Sight to see. "W-What will we tell the girls?"

"N-Not yet!" Eleonora barked.

"Don't yell at us!" Queenie shouted. "Bitch!"

"Don't call _me_ a bitch!" the blonde witch screeched. "Don't you _see_ what _happened_?!"

"Y-Yes I do," the ebony, obese witch cried. "Whoever did this…will pay…oh god…" She looked to Cordelia, who also entered the room while dodging the blood on the floor; Queenie still had tears in her eyes. "Cordelia? Use your Second Sight. Touch them. Find out what happened to them."

"But—"

"Just do it," the ebony witch scowled.

Cordelia reluctantly went over to Julie, seeing that she was scantily clad with bloodied, gray lace undergarments, saturated black stockings that barely covered the huge gash in her thigh, and strappy silver heels. Putting her hands over the dead Supreme's bloodied, ice-colored hair, she saw everything and cried, shaking her head as she wailed with the blood on her hands. Eleonora walked over to her, one of her heels soaked by the blood on the floor—she looked to Zoe and Kyle.

"Get a mop and some paper towels," she ordered. When Queenie sped with them to get the cleaning supplies, Eleonora leaned down and shook her head, looking at Julie's corpse and beginning to sob. When she got a hold of herself again, she sighed.

"What happened? What d-did you see?" the blonde witch questioned.

"J-Julie was possessed," Cordelia began, trying to take a breath in order to talk clearly.

"By?"

"The demon," the older witch said. "David."

"DAVID?!" Eleonora exclaimed with mere shock. "_HOW?_!"

"I…saw that…he seduced her," Cordelia explained; Eleonora's jaw dropped and her eyes widened, their green color glistening wetly. "After the act, he entered her body and made her…dress like this. Then…he made her stuff her face…"

She saw the pizza boxes, but then saw that someone was sitting in the chair—Eleonora then glanced over, prompted by a shocked gasp from Cordelia. No one but David was sitting there, holding an unfinished shot glass full of bourbon as he downed it gradually. He was wearing all black; a collared, button-up shirt, black slacks, and black dress shoes that were just barely soiled by the carnage that had happened in the room. His brown hair was messed slightly in a style from his lifetime, and his blue eyes were like daggers at the witches near Julie's body.

"YOU!" Eleonora hissed through gritted teeth as she stood up.

"Please, for the love o'God, Cordelia," David began, "finish your sentence."

"YOU _KILLED_ THEM!" Eleonora screamed. "HOW _COULD_ YOU?!"

"My, my, your fellow witch was right. I _did_ get a piece of woman t'night, and boy, was she easy," he explained smoothly; there was an evil in his soft, kindly-sounding voice. "She was just the one I needed to do my biddin'. I needed to punish y'all for plannin' what you planned on doin'. I thought I told you, I'm bound to Eleonora by blood. You can't just _banish _me, darlin's, 'specially since I got y'all by the _balls_."

"You will _not_ get away with this, demon!" Cordelia shouted. "I may be blind, but I can see what you did here. It is _unforgiveable_, and we_will_ banish you one way or another!"

"Give me your _best shot_, blindie," David sneered, taking a gulp of the whiskey. "You do your _damn_ worst! It'll be 'nother life on the tally chart."

Eleonora's sobbing caught David's attention, and he watched her, feeding off of her misery as she sobbed in her hands.

"Chase…Julie…YOU _KILLED_ THEM! _MISTY_, TOO!" she screeched, still grieving over the loss of most of her remaining family. "Chase…Misty…t-they had children…those…those little girls are…g-g-going be devastated all b-because of you! T-They were a b-b-beautiful family…so kind…loving…it's a wonder they don't come down here and see what you've done. T-They could grow up to be the m-most powerful in our line…and you wouldn't even give a shit to know." She paused and sniffled. "I hate you, David…I _HATE _YOU! I _curse _the night I cast that spell!"

David watched and concentrated, taking another gulp of bourbon as he watched her place her hands on Julie's bloodied head with the hopes of using her own powers of resurrection to spring her back to life. He noticed her getting frustrated when her powers didn't seem to be manifesting, and the incubus snickered with humor at watching her grunt and try to concentrate.

"Wake up! C'mon! Work!" she muttered to herself, trying to use her powers on the corpse. David continued to snicker, and Cordelia saw him.

"_Stop _it! Let her at least undo what you've done!" she shouted.

"Good luck, sugar," he snickered, "I've bound your power to me."

"_WHAT_?!" Eleonora screamed. "STOP IT! _STOP IT_!"

"No, I ain't stoppin'!" the demon screeched.

Queenie, who was holding paper towels and cleaning supplies at the doorway with Zoe and Kyle, stared at the sight of David controlling Eleonora's powers to the point where she was nothing more than a mundane being, normal as anything. In reality, however, David had ulterior motives before looking over at the three in the doorway and binding their wills to his.

"Clean up this mess," he ordered. "And put these…dead_scoundrels_ where they gotta go. When they dead, they gotta look presentable."

"Y-Yes," Queenie said obediently in unison with the others.

As the bodies were dragged out of the room, David sat and drank his whiskey, watching as hours were spent cleaning up the bloody scene—bleach was their best friend, especially on the furniture and the carpeted area.

* * *

Eleonora had not taken part in the clean-up of the bloody scene of her family members' deaths. One it had been too painful; two, she could not stand David, the incubus she unwittingly summoned, anymore. She was at a loss for what to do—bound to the demon by blood for life, he had told her. What else was she to do if attempting to banish him wouldn't work? Furthermore, who would be the witch to take Julie's place as the Supreme of the coven? Perhaps one of the council? Maybe one of the more powerful of the students already at the academy?

She began to pen her final piece of handwriting—a note for all intents and purposes.

_This is the only way I can protect the others_, she thought, _bound to blood by life? Not if I'm dead. Whoever sees me, sees me. Maybe it can be three times a charm this time._

She put the rope loop around her neck and reached behind, tightening it around her as she stood on the stool.

_"__Next time, I hope you hang yourself. I can't heal collapsed lungs or a broken neck."_

The voice of her late mother, whom David claimed to know and be madly in love with, resonated through her head over and over.

_She cursed me so this would happen._

She looked down at her heeled feet, kicking the stool beneath them as her feet hung.

She felt a sharp crack in her neck accompanied with a sound.

She found herself gasping for air with her hands on the tight noose she had fastened to the globe light on the ceiling in her bedroom.

She found her vision turn to black, her skin turning cold as it was pale, and her heart stopped beating.

* * *

Clara stirred in her deep slumber, tossing and turning as she groaned softly. It was definitely much more than the summer heat that took up the room she and little Amy shared. Taking the covers off her, her small footsteps were enough to awaken her beautiful, blonde younger sister. As her intense blue eyes opened up, Amy rose and saw Clara walk past the foot of her bed.

"Clara?" she asked. "Why did you wake up?"

"I dunno," the dark-haired girl said. "I…I couldn't sleep."

It was at that moment Amy got out of bed and walked toward her sister, looking up at her with her large, intensely blue eyes. There was a deep concern in them as they sparkled up at Clara, who looked down and frowned.

"I'll come with you," the younger sister suggested.

"No, no," Clara said. "You stay here. I don't want you gettin' scared, 'cause I just heard somethin'."

"What?" Amy asked curiously.

"I dunno," her older sister said. "I'm gonna go find out."

Amy went to the doorway and watched her sister slowly walk down the hallway; Clara's clear eyes looked around, and she managed to wipe the gunk from sleep out of the corners in order to see better and avoid itching them so much. Suddenly, she grew anxious with the sensation of a strange chill moving down her spine—it was very unusual, so she picked up her pace as she obeyed her instincts.

"Hello?" she asked. "Anyone here?"

No answer—_maybe they're sleepin'_, she thought as she pressed on.

However, she saw that one of the tall, white-wood doors on the side of the hallway was slightly open and ajar; she curiously went up to it and stepped inside only to see the vague, shadowy image in the dim darkness of dangling feet swinging slowly like a pendulum with inertia. It was the moment Clara turned on the light to see Eleonora, her aunt, hanging from a noose by her neck from the globe light in the ceiling.

"AAAHHHHHH!" she screamed out.

She promptly ran down the stairs with the hopes of finding someone to alert about the news of Eleonora's apparent suicide, sobbing as she whined with fear. Her hand slid down the banister as she ran down the stairs, and once she reached the bottom, she shouted frantically for help.

"HELP! AUNT JULIE! SOMEONE _HELP_!"

No answer; so she ran away from the bottom of the grand staircase to the ancestry room—nearly fainting at the sight of the bloodied, heavily wounded bodies of not only her aunt, but her parents laying on the floor right next to the threshold of the doorway. Chase and Julie seemed to be piled up on top of Misty's body at certain parts, and a slight trail of leftover blood, (which had been cleaned up hours before) had lead to the bodies and was created when they were dragged away from where the witches were ordered to clean up by the demon.

"NOO! NO! AHH!" Clara screamed. "NOOOOOO!"

The screaming of the little brunette girl caught Zoe's attention first; the witch ran toward her and gasped, stepping over the hacked corpses and holding her close to console her, letting her sob in her arms as her large, doe-like eyes looked down at her dark hair.

"I'm so sorry, sweetie," she sighed, getting teary-eyed again. "There was an accident."

"A-A-Accident?" Clara asked, her blue eyes flooding with tears.

"Yes, I'm so sorry," Zoe cried. "I'm _so_ sorry."

"I…I want to bring them all back," the little girl said, letting go of Zoe. "Eleonora, too."

"_What?_" the witch with straight brown hair asked—_not her, too_, she thought to herself.

"I saw her…dangling upstairs," Clara explained sadly, kneeling and reaching down to touch the sides of her dead father's cleaved head with both hands—some of the front part of his brain had come out of the wound Julie had afflicted on him postmortem while she was possessed.

Zoe, who was taken aback by the news of Eleonora's death, looked to Cordelia and Queenie, who stared right back at her as they paused their late-night cleaning of the blood in the ancestry room; half of the room had been cleaned.

"We have to go upstairs," she said. "Eleonora…she…"

"Oh no," Cordelia said, using her Second Sight to locate their fellow witch. "She's killed herself!"

"What?!" Queenie exclaimed, tossing the mop she had been using aside and running out of the room, nearly tripping on the corpses as her rapid feet pounded against the floor. Cordelia and Kyle soon followed, but the little girl stayed behind and cried, looking down at her dead parents and aunt. Julie was covered in the blood of both her sister in-law and her fraternal twin brother, and her eyes were half-closed with livid eyelids, her icy skin showing small rivers of veins beneath its surface. Clara sighed, gently taking her small hands to the bloodied head of her powerful aunt and concentrating; surprisingly, she did not feel faint like she had when resurrecting her sister after the roof caved in on them in their house when it burned, but Julie did not come to life; this discouraged her, and she cried excessively until a voice caught her attention.

"What are you doin', lil' miss?" it asked. Clara turned to see the incubus, the one she was warned against being around by her father, coming into view behind her as he stood on a cleaned-up area. Clara gasped and shook her head.

"No, no, not you," she said. "You're the bad man. I'm not s'posed to be talkin' to you. Dad said so."

"And he's dead as a doornail, lil' miss," he said casually. "He ain't here to boss you 'round no more."

"Please go away?" she asked kindly, crying softly. "I can't see you. Please."

"But you seein' me now. Ain't no point in leavin', lil' miss," he said politely. "I ain't no bad man. I may be a demon, but I'm not usually this bad of a guy."

Clara, only a child with a weak mentality to make it easy for him to coerce, listened to what he had to say, taking her hands away from the head of her aunt and wiping the blood away.

"I was a human, just like you, lil' miss," he said with a smooth-looking smile. "I…I lived my life…I was a good man…I loved a woman…I carved my own way outta beneath my daddy's thumb. What I became is what I did when I died. Get me, sweetie?"

"Oh," Clara frowned. "How sad for you."

"Yeah, real sad, ain't it? But I ain't lookin' for sympathy. I'm lookin' for you to understand." He took a pause and a breath, biting his lower lip and looking into the girl's eyes. "If I was you, I'd not be usin' your power. You'll die again."

"What? But…_no_! I want them back!" Clara exclaimed as she cried heavily.

"Look at 'em, lil' miss!" David said emphatically, grabbing her arm and setting her on her feet. "Your daddy's brain is seepin' outta that hack in 'is skull. Your momma Misty can't resurrect herself, and she got a gash the size o' Russia on her neck. And your aunt…" He paused. "She lost too much blood. See 'er all covered up in it? Yup."

"But no! I want to bring them back! My ma taught me to make a poultice. Stitch the wounds, put it on, and yeah! They'll be good as new!" she exclaimed with optimism, making David nearly face-palm.

"No, I'm sorry, lil' miss, but all'gator shit ain't gonna heal no wound of theirs," he explained. "Too deep."

"How do you know if you ain't tried it yet?" Clara asked, trying to persuade him. "Ma put that on my scraped knees all the time when I fell. Worked, and made 'em good as new!"

David paused, looking down at her with frightening glare.

"Because I know everything," he said. "That's how I know. You best listen to what I'm tellin' you, 'nd I'm tellin' you _now_. If you try resurrectin' them, you'll die again. So get away from 'em, and come over here with me."

* * *

"Oh my god," Zoe said, looking up at Eleonora's hanging corpse as they turned on the light; she was in tears. "She actually killed herself."

"Oh no!" Queenie cried out. "She was…NO!"

"So many dead," Kyle muttered. "He did _this_, too?!"

"Look, here's a note," Cordelia said, picking it up and giving it to Zoe, who took it and looked down at the neat, perfect penmanship. The others gathered around her to see the writing in the note, which was written precisely on lined paper in black pen:

_"__To my Council and my nieces;_

_You must have noticed that I'm hanging from the light in my room. I quote my mother, Elina "Helen" Darling-Mortenson—"the next time you kill yourself, I hope you hang." Here I am now, hanging. I'm so freaking happy you cursed me before you died in Hell, mom. I didn't do it for you, though._

_I did it to hopefully rid your presence of the demon I had no idea I summoned. I had no intentions, but I had no choice, either. He was bound to me by blood for life. Now my life has ended, and he is gone. You don't have to worry about any more deaths after mine._

"She…killed herself for us?" Cordelia asked with disbelief. _How noble and brave of her_, she thought, _but I believe we all could have easily banished him_.

"There's more," Zoe said somberly, wiping her tearing eyes as she continued to read:

"_I'm so sorry it had to end like this, but just know that I loved every one of you as my family. Julie, Chase, and Misty; I know you are seeing each other again soon, but you were all an important part of my life. Julie, you were the best sister any girl could ask for, and you were the greatest Supreme to have ever graced this coven. Chase, you made everyone laugh, and I always saw you and Misty as a better power couple than Beyoncé and Jay-Z. Misty, you were also amazing; thank you for becoming a part of my family. I loved you like a sister. Clara and Amy…where do I start with you? You were the two who brought smiles to my face whenever you visited, and when you lost your house in the fire, your Aunt Julie opened the academy to you so it was not only our home, but yours as well. I'm so sorry you had to see me like this, my little sweeties. You will both grow up to be beautiful and powerful—I'm sure of it._

_My fellow council members, you were just as much of family as they were. Thank you for everything; you all were amazing in the long time that I've known you. Cordelia, you were sensible, wise, and truly a peace-maker. Zoe, one of my best friends…"_

Zoe teared up upon reading the statement Eleonora had included in the letter before committing suicide. Queenie patted her back, taking the note gently as he consoled her fellow witch with a hug, continuing to read the letter in her place:

"_Zoe, one of my best friends, you were always there for me, and you were one of the strongest people I've ever known. You were shy, but you really shined like a star. Queenie, also an amazing friend; I admired how sassy you were, and all the snappy comebacks you would come up with when someone was getting smart with you. Kyle, quiet and unassuming, I remember when Zoe, Madison and I snuck into the morgue just to revive you. You've been spruced for a long time now, and I wish you well in the rest of your endeavors. Thank you all for everything over the years._

_I never wrote a formal will, but I will for the following—give all my clothing to good will. The _Liber Umbrarum et Lux_goes to the next Supreme; it was under Julie's ownership prior to becoming a member of the coven and being its Supreme; it's only natural to give it to her successor. As for my nieces, the only blood relatives left in my family's line, I leave them something much more—after my mother died while attempting Descensum in the Seven Wonders ten years ago, remember the insurance guy came to the house? Not only did my mother have an insurance policy, but she had a rough sum of $500,000 to her name. It was all left to me, and I leave it to my nieces._

_I apologize for my untimely demise—I love you all, and wherever I go after my soul leaves my body, I will watch over you always._

_Fondly,_

_Eleonora._"

The remaining members of the coven and Kyle all looked at each other, and Cordelia wiped her blind eyes with a tissue she found in the box by Eleonora's old nightstand. The Second Sight allowed her to see the dead witch's hanging corpse and she scoffed with disgust and shame, pointing at the others directly.

"Take her down," she said faintly. "We…must bury them tomorrow."

"Where?" Zoe asked, tears filling her eyes as Kyle struggled to take the noose off Eleonora's livid, pale neck; he looked down and moved her hair, seeing a blue ligature mark across the neck of the body.

"Just by the greenhouse," Cordelia suggested, sniffling tearfully as she continued to wipe her eyes.

"Yeah, then we need a plan," Queenie suggested, "to get rid of that jerkhole downstairs."

"Wait," Zoe said, looking up at the ebony, obese witch. "How do you know he's still here, Queenie? I…I thought—"

"Shut up. Just listen!" Queenie ordered, holding her chubby, sausage-like index finger in the air.

The sound of music came to their ears, but it was faint and muffled; yet a familiar, soulful baritone cut through like a fiery beacon as the sound of piano-playing accompanied it. It compelled them to listen to the clear lyrics:

"_I loved her first, I held her first  
And she'll always have a place in my heart  
From the first time I saw  
Her eyes burn at me  
I knew that my love would always run deep  
And I prayed that I'd find her someday  
But its still hard to let myself go  
I loved her first…_"

"I'll be damned," Cordelia whispered to herself as she heard the music.

**A/N:**

**Lots of plot twists…the story is almost done. I notice not a lot of people are reading; I hope that changes soon.**

**I modified the lyrics to Heartland's ****_I Loved Her First _****to make it sound like a man who loves a woman, whereas the real one is about a father's unconditional love for his daughter as she gets married. Little side note.**

**Thanks so much to **Weezy815 **for your insightful reviews! I appreciate them!**

**Please ****Favorite****, ****Follow****, and leave a ****Review****!**

**Stay tuned! :3**


	14. Chapter 14

The funeral for Julie, Chase, Misty, and Eleonora was held outside near the greenhouse, as promised. The remaining council members and all thirty-one of the pupils at Miss Robicheaux's Academy were in attendance. Clara and Amy cried rivers from their eyes, and the rain fell heavily on their black, semi-formal garments as thunder clapped in the sky. Amy sobbed against her sister's puffy sleeve in response to the tragic deaths of her family members. Andrew looked over at Clara with his deep, majestically dark eyes and frowned, biting his lower lip as he stood next to his mother, Zoe, underneath her pitch black umbrella.

After a heartfelt eulogy given by Cordelia, the coffinless graves were given offerings—Cordelia had required each pupil and remaining member of the council to set aside four prized possessions to be buried with each of the dead in their graves. A single-file line was formed and led by the blind witch, who was followed by Zoe, then Kyle, followed by Queenie, Clara and then Amy; before Clara could put anything in the graves as tribute, she ran to the front of the line and tugged on Cordelia's gloved hand.

"Cordelia," she whispered tearfully. "I don't want to be in a line."

"Why not, my dear?" she asked, crouching slightly. "These are your family."

"I know," the little girl answered, her wet, dark hair clinging to her fair face. "I just want to save my gift for last."

"Oh, well alright."

The pupils and other council members tossed in their chosen prized possessions, which included foreign coins, trinkets, and jewelry. Someone had tossed in an old family pocket watch, while another tossed a rolled-up autographed poster of Stevie Nicks into Misty's open, rainy grave. In Julie's grave, a young pupil had given up lamb bones that were once used as a divination tool.

"You taught me how to use these, Miss Julie," the student said. "I haven't used them in so long. I feel they were appropriate to give to you. May you use them as you cross over to the Other Side."

Once the offerings were tossed into the graves, the graves were refilled by a number of select students who had volunteered to help bury the four deceased witches. Once the wet soil was patted flat, Clara walked over to the fresh burial spots with Amy's small hand in hers and sighed tearfully as the rain washed her tears down their faces. The dark-haired child reached into her pocket, and her blonde younger sister immediately noticed it was a needle.

"What are you doin'?" Amy exclaimed. "You're gonna hurt yourself!"

"I'm givin' the gift I promised," Clara said. "Watch."

Amy winced as she watched her sister prick her finger as she walked closer to the grave Julie had been buried in. Letting the blood drop on the ground, she concentrated to begin the accelerated sprouting of not a flower, not a shrub, but a full, mature pine tree. Amy looked in awe at what her sister had grown with her earthy powers, seeing its evergreen needles on its full branches.

"A pine tree," Clara said, "because Aunt Julie was a wintery witch. It reminds me of winter."

The next drop of blood went onto Chase's grave; suddenly, Clara concentrated enough to sprout a fully mature rowan tree.

"This tree is for our dad," the girl cried softly, "because ma taught us that this tree is connected with water. Dad loved water and had its power."

"I miss daddy," Amy sobbed.

"I do, too," Clara said with a cracked voice and a slight whine.

She walked over to Misty's grave, pricking her finger again and letting the blood drip onto the damp, moist soil wet from the rain. The accelerated growing of an elder tree began to manifest, its white berries glistening against the green leaves.

"Remember ma and Aunt Julie said elder was the tree of death and rebirth?" Clara asked, looking down at her mother's grave. "This is your tree, ma. You could bring the dead back to life…but…" She bit her upper lip and tried to breathe. "I…tried to save you."

"Clara," Amy said softly with worry. "You can't use that power no more. You'll die."

"I brought _you_ back to life, Amy," her older sister said, going toward Eleonora's grave and letting a drop of blood hit the soil and rise up to become an ash tree. Looking up and around, she could see the products of her powers were becoming drenched with rainwater, thirsty for more as Clara made her final dedication.

"Aunt Eleonora, an ash tree for you," she said, "for the…uh, what's the word, uh…what you gave to us."

Taking her sister with her, she held her hand and looked at the four memorial trees she had grown in her family's memory. When her eyes gazed down at her sister, she looked to be catatonic. Clara waved her hand in front of her face, but it did nothing. So she snapped her fingers, and Amy seemed to snap back to reality.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"I…I think I saw somethin'," Amy said.

"W-What did you see?"

Amy sighed, a blank expression on her exquisite face.

"He's gone."

* * *

By that night, the remaining council members—Zoe, Queenie, and Cordelia—all met by candlelight to discuss what steps to take next. It was a very difficult, tight situation; the Supreme was killed, which left them no choice but to perform the Seven Wonders. Even that was a major problem because aside from the remaining members of the council, Clara and Amy were too young to undergo the trial, and out of all the pupils at the academy, it would be somewhat difficult to determine who would succeed. Each pupil had their own unique powers, and it was such a diverse group of both young men and women—there had never been a male Supreme before.

"I don't know what we should do," Zoe said, her doe eyes illuminated by the candlelight. "Of course, we would need to perform the Seven Wonders to determine—"

"No one should do the Seven Wonders yet," Queenie said. "Not until we get rid of that pest that's floating around here."

"What makes you think that, Queenie?" Cordelia questioned.

"Because I can sense his presence. It's making me nauseous," the ebony witch replied. "I thought we went over this."

"Come to think of it," Zoe added, "I think we should focus on the safety of the coven and the students first. We should—"

"Should _what_, sugar?" a voice asked.

Emerging from the darkness and into the dim candlelight of the dining room was the shadow of a young man with a magnificent, clothed physique, his muscle-bound body shown clearly through the fabric of his black shirt. His handsome face was spellbinding, his eyes a glistening, crystal-clear blue color as they pierced each of the witches. It was clearly David, and Zoe stared back at him, her innocent-looking doe eyes catching his attention as he made his way to the table they were sitting at.

"Weren't you gonna leave when Eleonora died?" Queenie asked. "Go haunt someone else. We don't want you here no more."

"Oh, darlin', I can't just _haunt_ some other soul," David snickered. "I need a soul right now."

"Stop it, demon!" Cordelia exclaimed. "You've brought enough pain to us. Please leave! I beg you! _We_ beg you!"

"I need to take _someone _with me, and it may not be you, but it's gon' be anybody here," David warned. "So you just stay outta my way, and I'll leave y'all alone."

"Look!" Queenie shouted. "You best get your sorry ass outta here, or we're gonna raise some hell! Get out of here!"

David just laughed; the witches were coerced to listen.

"I _am_ Hell, darlin'."

And he faded from view; Queenie plopped back in her seat, a thud from her massive weight being heard throughout the house. She grunted with frustration and rested her forehead on her propped palm; Cordelia reached a hand over and patted her shoulder.

"You were right," she muttered.

"Damn right, I was," Queenie said. "We need to come up with a plan to get rid of that piece of shit demon before he kills another one of us."

"What about the big book?" Zoe asked. "Is there something in there?"

"I brought it with me," Cordelia said, putting the heavy, centuries-old grimoire on the table and unlocking it with the key.

Opening the elaborate, old leather-bound book, she used her Second Sight to help her flip to the right page without having to flip too many pages. Running her hand over the page, she was the first to notice the rearranged order of the pages the spells had been scripted on. Zoe looked down at the title, as did Queenie, recognizing its familiarity in a flash.

"Expello Daemonium," the doe-eyed witch with straight brown hair read aloud. "That was the missing spell! I remember now!"

"It says here," Cordelia said, reading what she could make of the old Latin script, "that we need…black salt…blessed holy water…an object of pure gold…hm…also it says…a piece of chalk?"

"I see that there," Queenie said, pointing one of her sausage-like fingers on a pentagram-looking symbol on the left of the page, "we may have to draw this."

"And we…have to t-trap…the demon inside the…sigillum gnosticum?" Cordelia asked, making sure she was pronouncing the words correctly.

"The Gnostic Sigil," Zoe began, pointing at the pentacle on the page. "That's what this is."

"Oh," the blind witch said, sliding the large grimoire to Zoe. "You read."

"Ok, so…" Zoe said, looking down at the scripted text and reading aloud. "It says we have to consecrate it and draw it on the floor with the chalk…uh…" She peered down and continued, "and it must be hidden."

"Under a rug?" Queenie suggested.

"I guess so," Zoe replied. "It also says we need three black candles."

"What else?" Cordelia asked. "Does it need anything else?"

"N-No," the doe-eyed witch said as she shook her head. "Just those things, but we need a plan. What if he's watching us right now?"

"We need a distraction," Cordelia initiated, "and suggest something else if this sounds dangerous, but I think…we should have Amy and Clara running around the ancestry room."

Both Queenie and Zoe darted their eyes at the blind witch, their jaws dropped as they shook their heads and made sounds of disapproval.

"Are you crazy?!" Zoe exclaimed. "They're _kids_! They'll be snatched up!"

"Not if they're wearing amulets," the blind witch said. "All we have to do is have them be followed into the room so the demon can be trapped in the circle. We have to put the rug over it and remember the exact point of the center. Then—"

"It says he's vulnerable while trapped in the circle," Zoe claimed as she peered down at the open book.

"I can stab myself with a gold cross," Queenie said, "and transfer my injuries to his body."

"Good idea," Cordelia said.

"Great, let's do it!" Queenie said with enthusiasm.

* * *

The witches wasted no time and got straight to work in the banishment of David, the incubus who had been haunting them even after Eleonora's suicide. Queenie and Zoe rolled the rug aside so Cordelia could trace out the Gnostic pentacle on the floor with every detail in the right place before taking blessed holy water and consecrating the medium-sized sigil. It was asperged with droplets while a Latin verse was chanted to bless the area for its purpose. When the rug was flapped over, Cordelia summoned the young girls by the power of concilium to come down to the front atrium of the academy and start dancing playfully with each other. The girls giggled, and the three witches in the ancestry room even heard Amy's small voice vaguely singing the song David had sung so many times while playing the piano. Queenie sighed, biting her lower lip as she hid the promised golden cross behind her back.

"Now we wait," Cordelia said.

"I'm ready," Queenie said.

Zoe remained silent—she was mostly concerned about Clara and Amy, especially after the losses they had faced already.


	15. Chapter 15

"Spin me!" Amy squealed.

Clara did so as the sisters hummed together, holding hands and laughing with joy and cheer.

Even as a shadow emerged from the darkness, they did not stop the dancing. The shadow become the human form of the incubus, who watched the young girls dance as he smiled. He particularly looked at Amy, whose messed, but neatly soft golden curls from being in bed were bouncing and swaying in sync with her movements. He noticed her intense, azure orbs look back at his own crystal clear ones even as she continued to dance with Clara. Clara's dark, straight hair swayed as she set Amy to spin around, the bottom of her nightgown billowing out gracefully like a butterfly's wings. David was enchanted, and he smiled at Amy, admiring the gorgeously beautiful little girl.

Cordelia, standing in the ancestry room surrounding the hidden floor sigil with Zoe and Queenie, saw the girls dancing in the incubus' presence in the atrium nearby with the power of her Second Sight. Her mind-control abilities were making them dance tirelessly and giggle, but when she looked to Zoe and Queenie and signaled for them to be prepared, she used her concilium to make the girls run into the room.

"Let's go!" Clara said, under Cordelia's powers as she and a giggling Amy held hands.

"Where are we goin', Clara?" Amy asked sweetly with a smile.

With his eyes locked on the back of Amy's bouncing gold ringlets, David followed them to the ancestry room; somehow, it caused the demon tunnel vision so intense that his omniscience neglected to tell him there had been a sigil hidden beneath the rug. Once the girls ran to the three witches, the demon tried to move his feet but looked down to see that the bottoms of his shoes were practically cemented to the carpet. Trying to wiggle out of his position, he glared at Cordelia, Queenie and Zoe as they closed in on him around the perimeter of the hidden sigil he was stuck in.

"What the…get me outta here!" he shouted.

"I'm afraid we can't do that," Cordelia said calmly, "you have brought enough danger to this place, and we will not stand for it anymore."

"GET ME OUT!" David screamed. "This ain't NO JOKE!"

"So is _this_ a joke?!" Queenie shouted, taking out the gold cross and jabbing it into the thick flesh of her thigh as she concentrated on her signature power, feeling blood drip down her leg and soaking her black pants.

"AHH!" the demon screeched with agony, feeling her injury transfer to him. He nearly collapsed within the space of the sigil, and Zoe stared down at him and gasped. _The book was right_, she thought, _he really is vulnerable after all_.

"Or this?!" Queenie continued; this time, she jabbed the bottom of the gold cross into her forearm, making David screech with excruciating pain as he struggled to hold both areas.

"OW! STOP!" he shouted. "STOP! STOP!"

"People have died because of you!" Zoe hissed forcefully. "It should've been _you_ who died, asshole!"

Just when she grabbed the great, centuries-old grimoire to look at the incantation again, Queenie inflicted and transferred another wound onto the incubus' body—this time, it was in the side of the abdomen.

"OW! STOP IT! _AHH_!" David screamed. "LET ME OUT!"

"No!" Zoe shouted, looking to the other witches before looking at David. "We are banishing you to Hell where you belong!"

At that moment, the witches held out their hands toward the outside portion of the circle, concentrating in unison while Clara and Amy watched them banish what their father called "the bad man". The older, brunette sister's eyes were wide with curiosity, but Amy's were fearful and intense, her pupils fixed on the sight as they heard them say the following incantation piece by piece:

"_Humiliter majestati gloriae tuae supplicamus_

_Ut ab omni infernalium spirituum potestate__,_

_Laqueo, et deceptione nequitia__,_

_Omnis fallaciae, libera nos, dominates_…"

"Stop it! Stop speakin'! I _forbid _you!" David shouted, feeling and seeing white light surrounding him as conjured by the witches as they continued:

"_Exorcizamus te omnis immundus spiritus_

_Omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio,_

_Infernalis adversarii, omnis legio,_

_Omnis et congregatio secta diabolica._

_Ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, dominates,_

_Ut coven tuam secura tibi libertate servire facias,_

_Te rogamus, audi nos!_"

David grunted, looking down at his physical form's hands to see that they were gradually, slowly disappearing at a painfully delayed rate. As he screamed again, he cursed at the witches.

"Damn y'all to Hell! Damn _you_!" he screamed, listening to them as they finished the chant and as his body gradually faded from existence.

"_Terribilis Deus Sanctuario suo,_

_Yahweh, ipse truderit virtutem plebi Suae,_

_Maria, ipse fortitudinem plebi Suae._"

"NO! STOP! I _CURSE _YOU! I _CURSE _Y'ALL FOR DOIN' THIS!" David screamed as he rapidly began to fade from sight, from the physical plane of existence. Zoe, upon hearing his threats of cursing the witches, put out her hand palm faced the last of the demon's physical form as he was consumed by the white light summoned to banish him.

"I undo your curse," she declared, "may you be in your nature, demon. Go to Hell."

With the declaration of the witch's will, the demon disappeared into the fading white light that consumed him. A force sent the witches back as the white energy gathered into a ball floating in midair and exploded like a bomb. However, Clara and Amy were unaffected in their places, only feeling a gusty breeze hit their faces and blow their hair. The three landed backwards—Cordelia nearly hit her head against the bottom of the sofa, Zoe fell backward on the uncarpeted part of the floor, and Queenie's fall made a loud thud against the wall near the piano. The doe-eyed, brown-haired witch groaned and rubbed the side of her hip, seeing the closed _Liber Umbrarum et Lux_ next to her as she took it, hugging it to her chest.

"Huh," Queenie chuckled, "does that make you the next Supreme?"

"I don't know," Zoe answered uncertainly. "I guess we'll have to find out."

"I…I wanna be Supreme," Clara said softly, looking at the witches as they stood up. "I wanna be like Aunt Julie. Don't you think she'd be proud o'me?"

"Oh, my darling," Cordelia said, "I'm sorry, but…y-you and your sister are too young to attempt the Seven Wonders. It can be very dangerous."

"What?" The young brunette sounded sad.

"I'm so sorry, Clara," Cordelia said, reaching to put a hand on the girl's shoulder. "You are too young to rise to the supremacy. You're still so young, and you have so much to learn before you can undergo such a trial. Maybe one day, you'll become Supreme, but for now, stay young and learn, Clara."

"Oh," the girl said solemnly with a frown, "I can't wait to grow up and be like Auntie Julie as Supreme."

"One day, maybe," Zoe said, repeating Cordelia. "One day."

* * *

It was not only Cordelia, Queenie, and Zoe who were to participate in the Seven Wonders as an exclusive group—a competition was arranged for the following week to see which pupils were the strongest. Those who prevailed would go on to compete with other powerful students, male and female, in what looked to be mini games. The three remaining council members oversaw them for the whole week, and Clara and Amy were the two to encourage the students to do their best—if Clara was too young to be Supreme, she thought it would only be best to accept that fact graciously and move on.

After the trials were completed, only five pupils were considered powerful enough to participate in the Seven Wonders. At sundown the following Saturday night, after all of the competing was over, the five candidates in addition to the three council sat in the candlelit ancestry room, where the three remaining members of the council stood before them—Cordelia did the majority of the speaking.

"Give yourselves a nice pat on the back. You've made it this far, and it will be quite a trial considering the fact that you are the most powerful in the academy," the blind witch said. "Tomorrow morning at sunrise, we will all meet in the atrium at the bottom of the staircase, and the Seven Wonders will begin. Are there any questions?"

No hands were raised, but the three witches looked around at who they had in front of them.

Sitting on the left lounge chair was Christina Scheer, a student at the academy for four years who had developed very much during her time with the coven. Aged twenty-one and average-looking, Christina was well-known for her natural-born powers of invisibility and glamouring, the magickal art of changing one's appearance in order to look like someone else. She was always dressed in good taste and took consideration in the school's dress policy, wearing a white button-up shirt, a black pleated skirt, and any pair of shoes from her shoe collection that she was in the mood for that day. Her hair was chestnut-colored and in a similar style to Zoe's—long and straight. Her eyes were dark and rich, the color of rich chocolate fondue with only a hint of her pupils showing. One of her trademark physical features was the dimple in her sharp chin.

On the left part of the sofa sat what looked like a hardcore Marilyn Manson or Souixsie and the Banshees fan—Isabelle St. Martin was her name, and between her pale, long fingers was a half-smoked cigarette fuming the same poisons she had constantly breathed in. She was one of the very few, extremely powerful students accepted at Miss Robicheaux's, she was admitted exactly a decade before, when Julie rose to the supremacy. At age twelve, she shared her first kiss with a boy who died just moments after—aside from a deadly kiss, she had been born with powers including pyrokinesis, mind-control, clairvoyance, and umbrakinesis, the power to manipulate darkness and shadow; yet everyone knew who Isabelle was and that her powers grew as a student, learning new things. Rumors had stirred among the students that Isabelle owned the only copy of _Maleficio_ in the world—unlike the _Liber Umbrarum et Lux_ introduced by Julie, the _Maleficio_ was fabled to have been compiled by demons and lesser entities and contained curses, hexes, necromancy, and other forms of dark magick. Despite being very beautiful, Isabelle always wore so much black that it intimidated the other students—even her curling, voluminous hair, a natural brown shade, was dyed raven black. Her grayish-blue eyes were always heavily lined with black eyeliner and her eyelashes were swiped repeatedly with mascara, making her pale skin stand out. She was also the eldest of the candidates in this trial.

In the middle of the sofa was Leland Parsons, a powerful eighteen-year old who was a student for three years. A proficient spellcaster with his hand in divination, he had only one natural ability—electrokinesis, the power to manipulate or produce pure electrical surges from the trigger of his hands or fists. In comparison with the other male students at Miss Robicheaux's, Leland never hesitated to dress as casual as he pleased, wearing plaid flannels and baggy jeans with sneakers. His black hair matched his tanned skin and brown eyes, and it was a shaggy sort of long. His face, though not effeminate, displayed soft male features, and there was a calmness about him that only made the other students imagine what emotions he had bottled up inside.

Robert Dunwall sat at the right part of the sofa—a pupil for two years, he was handsome, ambitious, and very gifted, as he was born with the powers of telekinesis, telepathy, and was a skilled medium. He was diligent enough to pay attention to the council members during lessons involving the powers required in the Seven Wonders, and as a result, was already well-versed in most of them. A former high school football star, he graduated with a high grade point average with plans to attend Brown University. That was until his grandmother decided to send him down to Miss Robicheaux's Academy for Exceptional Youth, having been the only one to have known of his amazing powers. He was a well-built, comely young man with blue eyes, blondish hair, and a muscular build from his high school football days; despite his tendency to wear his old football shirts from time to time, he still dressed in good taste with dress shirts, khakis and dress shoes.

Last but certainly not least, the fifth candidate on the right living chair was nineteen-year old Melissa Ortega, an unlikely contender and probably thought of such simply because of her life before being accepted just a year before. Raised in a Hispanic household in Texas by her single mother, a _bruja_, Melissa discovered her powers at a young age but kept them repressed due to her Catholic faith. A very powerful young witch, she possessed healing powers and photokinesis, the manipulation of light—in Melissa's case, "light" meant white energy that could be used for a benevolent purpose. Melissa also was of extraordinary dark beauty—wavy dark brown hair full of body, great black eyes the color of polished onyx, full eyelashes, and soft, feminine facial features. Like the others, she dressed appropriately; even if that meant being a fan of bright colors like turquoise and tribal-inspired jewelry.

"Don't be shy, everyone," Cordelia encouraged, "you must have some questions for us."

Still, no one raised their hand—Isabelle's cigarette gave off the dreadful stench of nicotine in the silence, and her slate-blue stare was deathlike.

"I have a question for all of _you_," Zoe said, stepping forward. "Let's review. Can someone tell me what trials the Seven Wonders includes?"

"I remember, it's…" Leland began, holding one finger for each on he got right, "Telekinesis, Pyrokinesis, Concilium, Descensum, Divination, Transmutation, and…uh…hold on." He paused to try and remember; Isabelle simply rolled her eyes as she sat beside him. "Vitus Vitalum. That's the last one."

"It's _Vitalum Vitalis_, you fucking idiot," the goth girl sneered.

"Don't be such a bitch!" Christina snapped. "He only made one mistake."

"Yeah, and one mistake in the trial can _kill_ you, dipshit," Isabelle retorted.

"Enough, girls!" Cordelia ordered. "We need to keep our minds focused even before the challenges. No fighting, and that means you, Isabelle."

The goth witch scoffed, rolling her eyes and dragging on her cigarette. Cordelia continued, nonetheless, however.

"Now, get plenty of rest. You will need it, and until sunrise, best of luck to all of you," she said. "You are dismissed."

* * *

**A/N:**

**So now that David is gone, a new Supreme can rise and flourish in Julie's place. For the purpose of fairness between the academy and the three remaining council members, I have created some original characters who, as you read, are the most powerful enough to compete in the Seven Wonders.**

**FUN FACT:** _Melissa, the last OC mentioned, had a mother who was a _bruja_. "_Bruja_" __means "witch" in Spanish, and is a term_ _related to Brujería, a form of Latin-American witchcraft or faith-healing._

**Thanks to **Weezy815 **and **MaliceInWonderland23 **for your reviews on the last chapter or two. Always appreciated!**

**Kindly leave a ****Review ****with some feedback, and please ****Favorite ****and/or ****Follow****!**

**Stay tuned….who will be the next Supreme? :O**


	16. Chapter 16

The time had come.

While the competitors for the title of Supreme were upstairs getting ready including the three remaining council members, Clara and Amy roamed the atrium and the halls, holding a shawl each around them like their mother had. Ironically, Clara had been holding Misty's favorite shawl around her, and just the scent coming to her nose nearly sent a tear down her face. Amy, however, was wearing her own shawl that had been given to her as gift by their mother; it was white and light-weight with eyelet embroidery, and it perfectly matched her flowery sundress. Misty's shawl on Clara looked excellent with her green, ¾ sleeved dress as it spun with her movements. As the candidate students and council members gradually met in the atrium, the girls sung vaguely:

"If I live to see…seven wonders…"

Christina and Zoe came down and began the double-file line.

"I'll make a path…rainbow's end…"

As the girls continued to dance around the halls and sing vague sentences of the song so fitting for the day, Robert and Leland were the next to descend the grand staircase—they seemed to be polar opposites with their choice of clothing; Robert stuck with business casual, while Leland wore a plaid flannel shirt with good black slacks.

"I never live…match the beauty again…"

Isabelle, dressed head to toe in black goth-style clothing with her dyed-black curling hair flowing down the front past her shoulders, descended the staircase at Melissa's side. They were another pair of polar opposites, for the dark, Latin beauty was wearing a flattering, but loose-fitting white peasant blouse and a brown-belted black skirt with a sheer over layer. In her dark brown waves was a flower, which made her exotic features stand out. Isabelle's slate-blue eyes were intimidating enough as she peered over at the dancing daughters of Misty Day and made them stop dancing by sheer willpower.

Even their singing abruptly stopped as Cordelia and Queenie were the last to come down. However, the blind witch made her way down the steps to face the students and the remaining council members who were participating in the Seven Wonders. She wore large, almost gaudy sunglasses over her scarred eyes as she used her Second Sight to see everyone standing on the steps.

"Best of luck in the Seven Wonders. You've all made it this far. May the most powerful rise gracefully and flourish. Julie would have wanted it that way, and I do know that," she said. "Now, we are off."

As the double-file line made their way to the ancestry room, Robert's mediumship abilities manifested as he looked to the front door, seeing four figures—those of three women and one man—stand there with smiles on their faces. He gasped and smiled, seeing it was the spirits of Julie, Eleonora, Chase, and Misty. Breaking away from the line of candidates, he smiled specifically at Chase's spirit, looking healthy as ever and wearing what he normally did in life.

"Chase! Oh my god! How are you, man?" he exclaimed with excitement. The little girls, who stood nearby, could only see him talking to midair—truth be told, they could not see the spirits of their dead relatives. Amy's large, intensely blue eyes widened.

"Daddy?" she muttered to herself. Robert seemed to engage in a conversation with the spirit no one could see but him—Isabelle and Christina scoffed and looked over at him as he spoke to the air.

_"__I'm doing good,"_ Chase's spirit told Robert, _"__We came back to wish you luck during the Seven Wonders. I remember I didn't make it, but my sister Julie did."_

"Oh, come on," Christina said, "will you stop talking to the air? You look like a nutcase, Robert!"

"Looks like _someone_ won't be Supreme," Isabelle sneered.

Robert looked to see all of the spirits, who spoke in order.

_"__I am so proud of all of you. To the council, you all banished the demon that possessed me, and now you as students have a new responsibility to assume,"_ Julie's spirit smiled. _"__I'm very happy for all of you. Blessings to you all from the gods."_

"Ah, the gods," Robert chuckled. "Julie, Julie, Julie. Miss Julie, thank you so much. We won't disappoint you."

_"__You did what we couldn't," _Eleonora added_, "in specific I mean Cordelia, Zoe, and Queenie. I guess it took more than my death to get rid of David. Lots of love and luck to the students._"

"Thank you, Eleonora," Robert said.

"What are they saying?" Melissa asked, her feather-soft Latin accent filling the room quietly as she looked at Robert's handsome features curiously. "Who do you see?"

"It's Miss Eleonora, Mister Chase, Miss Julie, and Miss Misty," he responded. "They wish us luck in the Seven Wonders."

"You see my daddy and momma?" Amy asked with a tear in her eye.

"Yes, I do, little girl," Robert said. "Want me to tell them something for you?"

"Tell 'em we miss 'em lots," Clara said, "and that we love 'em."

And he did so; that is when Misty's spirit gave her say.

_"__I love my lil' girls,"_ she said, "_tell 'em that for me._" He looked to the daughters of the woman's spirit and relayed the message.

"Your mother tells me to tell you that she loves you both very much," he said.

"Really?!" Clara exclaimed with excitement. "Let me see her!"

_"__Best of luck from me to you,_" Misty's spirit told Robert.

The spirits faded from his view, and the handsome, built young man with flaxen hair leaned down to see the girls.

"One day," he said, "If I make it through the Seven Wonders, I'll teach you how to see spirits. But for now, the others're waiting."

"Yeah, let's hurry up, bro," Leland said, approaching him as he got up from his crouched position and patting him on the back roughly. "We can't start too late, I read. We have to begin."

* * *

The first challenge was Telekinesis, the power to move objects with the mind. For this challenge, Kyle lit taper candles in their holders on a table, one for each witch to try and levitate with their minds. As soon as they were signaled to begin, the first ones to be levitated were those of Robert and Zoe, followed by Queenie and Cordelia. Isabelle managed to get hers up before the time ran out and just before Christina could levitate hers. Leland and Melissa were the weakest in the trial, only moving their candlesticks enough to slide them away from where they were standing.

* * *

The second challenge was Pyrokinesis, the power to manipulate or create fire from sheer willpower. For this trial, the candles had been blown out and arranged along with unlit ones, and the fireplace was also open to be messed with as well. Each candidate took turns, and it seemed like an eternity, but the council members began—out of the three, Cordelia and Zoe were the most proficient. Afterwards, they watched the pupils take their turns at it and found that Isabelle, who had been naturally born with the power, lit all of the candles and the fireplace in one go. However, there were more interesting ways the students used the powers they already had to create fire—Robert, who learned pyrokinesis from being a student at the academy, only managed to light the candles with his mind. Melissa, who summoned a white orb in her hands, tossed it into the fireplace to create what looked like blue fire from a mystical world. The most unique approach was Leland, who struck each wick with what looked like mini lightning bolts before making a grand finale by zapping the fireplace and making green fire that blazed fiercely.

"Excellent, everyone," Cordelia finally said after the trial had been completed. "I loved your methods, Leland and Melissa. Very well done."

"I'm impressed," Zoe said. "I've never seen blue or green fire before."

"It's not even real pyrokinesis," Isabelle scoffed. "How the hell is that fair to us?"

"They still tried, Miss Isabelle," Zoe told her, nearly scared to death by her goth look.

"I think they should be disqualified," the young witch expressed doubtfully. "They didn't even use what was taught to them. But _I_ didn't need to be taught. I was _born_ with it. Even look at Christina."

She pointed at the young witch with brown hair, who had been the weakest in the pyrokinesis trial.

"She was at least humble enough to admit that she sucked," she continued.

"Uh, ex_cuse _me, Isabelle, but I didn't admit _anything_, so shut up," Christina snickered.

"Alright, enough now," Cordelia said, putting an end to their quarrelling. "Now on to the next trial."

* * *

Concilium—the power of imposing the will onto someone else; also known as mind-control. The council members started off by taking turns on each other—Zoe coerced Queenie to slap herself repeatedly. In turn, the obese witch made Zoe crawl on the floor and hit her forehead repeatedly against the uncarpeted part much to her disapproval. Cordelia, using her Second Sight to see, coerced Zoe to stop doing that. When she did, she coerced the council members to stop using concilium on each other.

Then it was the student's turns—Christina began by making Melissa take the rose out of her dark-colored waves and eat the flower petals. The Latina smiled and laughed while doing it, shaking her head.

"Roses are not poisonous," she said, "I am so lucky."

Melissa then coerced Christina to sit down on the sofa with her back perfectly straight, making her shake her head side to side until her neck got tired.

Isabelle, who had been born with this ability in addition to her other ones, managed to coerce the entire room of witches to her will. Robert and Leland, the weakest in the trial, were made to hug each other, but Isabelle eventually came up with an idea—_creating lighting only to make fire and he's still on a role_, she thought, _but not for long_.

"Leland," she announced, wagging her finger toward her as she concentrated. "Come here."

As he did, she pulled him in an embrace and coerced him to kiss her. As she slid her tongue in his mouth, the other witches watched with shock to see that Leland had become victim to her deadly kiss—he fell to the floor and died instantly. As Isabelle wiped her black-painted lips of any saliva she picked up from kissing him, she looked down and shrugged, stepping over his body as she took up the black crinoline of her skirt. Zoe looked at the young witch in horror, and Robert suddenly was weirded out by the fact that she made him and Leland hug during his final moments alive.

"You killed him," the older witch with doe eyes stated with shock.

"Well, _he_ wanted to kiss me," Isabelle said nonchalantly. "Oh well!"

She used the last of her concilium to force the others not to cry over Leland's death, making her the strongest candidate in that particular trial.

"Move him to that greenhouse out back," she ordered, her slate-blue eyes sharp and piercing. "Now."

* * *

After Leland's body was positioned on the empty, old table of the greenhouse, the witches and the two little girls made their way back to the inside of the large manor, but Clara and Amy didn't make it past the entrance of the greenhouse. The dark-haired sister walked slowly toward the corpse of Leland and took his hand. Amy sniffled slightly, and made Clara take her hand away from the body.

"No, Clara," she said. "No."

"Why?" she asked.

"Because you'll die," Amy whined. "You can't do that again. You ain't goin' to. _Please_ say you ain't goin' to!"

"Amy, I…I think I'm confident 'nough now to do it," the older sister said, moving the shaggy hair of Leland away from his softly masculine face. "I ain't gonna die. I'm prob'bly gonna faint, but I'll be fine."

"No! Don't—"

Clara disobeyed her younger sister's pleas to not use her power of resurgence by placing her small hands on Leland's head, closing her eyes and focusing as she took in deep breaths, breathing out through her mouth as she felt her power begin to manifest. Her hands shook slightly, and Amy only got nervous and even jumped with fright when Leland suddenly popped up and began to breathe heavily, coughing as his heart rate went back up again. Meanwhile, Clara's eyes began to get heavy, and at that moment her sister rushed over to her to try and see if she was alright.

"Clara! Clara! _NO_!" she screamed.

"W-What?" Leland asked. "Where am I? Where is everyone else?"

"NO! Clara! Don't die!" Amy cried. "Not _you_, too!"

"Oh my god! Little girl! Are you okay?!" Leland exclaimed, seeing Amy cry as Clara blacked out with her lifeless body on the floor. He gasped upon seeing the dark-haired girl's straight tresses fan out around her head with her skin pale, but not deathly pale.

"Clara…is dead!" Amy screamed, teary-eyed as the two crouched.

Leland took one of Clara's wrists and felt her pulse—she had not died, but her blood pressure felt very slow.

"No, she's not dead, little girl. She's alive," the young man said.

"_Really_?!" Amy asked, her intense eyes widening. "How d-do you know?"

"Her pulse is still going. We have to wake her up," he said, holding the girl as he tried to shake her awake. "Little girl? Wake up. Please?"

"Her name ain't 'lil' girl'. It's Clara," Amy said.

"O-Oh," he said. "Uh…Clara? Clara, wake up. Wake up."

The dark-haired girl groaned, and as her eyes opened to see Leland's dark ones staring down at her, she could barely believe what had happened. She was propped up against him, and he kindly rubbed her head, his fingers running down her long, almost black tresses as she began to speak weakly.

"W-What _happened_?" Clara asked hoarsely.

"Clara! You're _alive_!" Amy said, looking into her sister's weak face.

"I don't understand," Leland said. "Why did you faint? Are you okay?"

"I…I…well—"

"She tried to make you alive again," Amy explained. "I died once. She brought me to life again and when she did me, she died. Our momma had to bring _her_ back, too."

"Huh?" Leland was clearly confused, furrowing his eyebrows inward beneath his shaggy dark hair.

"I ain't used this power much," Clara explained. "I can make things grow and I…can…bring back dead people, I guess."

"_Resurgence_?" he asked with shock.

"Yeah, that's it," the dark-haired girl answered, putting out her hand. "I wanna stand up. Please help?"

"Certainly."

He rose back to his feet and with the help of golden-haired, beautiful Amy, he was able to make Clara stand even though she wobbled slightly. Once she was stable, she looked around the heavily vegetated greenhouse she had created flowers for and smiled up at Leland and then to her sister, who clung onto her arm.

"I didn't die," Clara said. "I guess…faintin's the only thing." She turned her gaze to Leland, who stared at her with awe. "You got the Seven Wonders to do. You may become Supreme. The first _boy_ Supreme! Go!"

As he walked toward the entrance of the greenhouse with a nod, he stopped and looked back at the little girls, especially at Clara, who looked back at him and listened to his last words before leaving them to their own devices.

"If anything, _you_ should be Supreme," he said, "I don't know why they didn't let you and your sister do the Seven Wonders, but you are _more_ destined for it than _I_ am."

* * *

Leland returned during the trial of Transmutation, the act of moving place to place in a similar fashion to teleporting. The council members had already taken their turn, and when he first stepped foot into the ancestry room, he saw Christina appear before him with a look of shock in her average, homely face.

"_Leland_?!" she asked. "Are you for _real_?! You're alive! How did you—"

"No time to explain," he said, "because I have to try my hand at _this_ trial and get back in the game."

Robert and Melissa appeared in the ancestry room next, also with shocked looks on their faces.

"Bro!" Robert said as he saw his fellow pupil; he shook his hand roughly. "How did you come back?! You're alive! Wait, let me guess. Her kiss didn't kill you?"

"No, it did." His response seemed grave—no pun intended.

"How did you come _back_?" Zoe asked emphatically, finally noticing him as she walked over with Cordelia and Queenie.

"One of those little girls saved me," he said. "The black haired one."

"_Clara_? How the hell—" Queenie was cut off by Leland's further explanation.

"I know, it was weird," he continued, "I-I woke up in the greenhouse, and then I saw she fainted. The littler one was crying and saying she died, but I went to check her pulse and she was alive. The little girl was _alive_, but fainted, so I helped her up. That's when she told me she had…the power of…resurrection?"

"It's _resurgence_, you idiot!" Isabelle snapped, transmutating into the room.

"Vitalum Vitalis? It is the same thing, no?" Melissa asked.

"Melissa, _you're_ another one," the goth said. "Shut up."

"Why are you so cruel? Can't you be kind for once?" the Latina witch asked.

"I have no soul, remember?" she sneered; as Melissa conjured a white orb from her hand with the intentions on softening Isabelle's hard attitude, the goth turned it to pure darkness and dissolved it completely from sight.

"Stop it! Now!" Cordelia said, standing up. "That's enough. The important thing is, you're alive, Leland. You can do transmutation now, if you'd like."

"My kiss killed him! When I want someone dead, they _stay_ dead! Where is that little bitch?!" Isabelle shouted. "I'm going to _fix_ her ass!"

"Don't you _dare_!" Leland barked, transmutating before Isabelle as she made her way to the doorway. "If you touch her, I will zap you into next Tuesday!"

"Give me your best shot, dead boy!" the goth said, conjuring a fireball in her hand.

"ENOUGH!" Cordelia shouted. "No more _fighting_, Isabelle! And you will _not _touch a _hair _on that girl's head!"

"Ugh," Isabelle said.

"Off to our dinner break," Queenie announced. "Let's go. I'm starving."

* * *

It had been five-thirty in the afternoon when Kyle served the meal for the candidates participating in the Seven Wonders. The appetizer consisted of a bowl of fresh fruit including cut kiwi, sliced mango, chilled strawberries, and crisp-cold raspberries. There also was a hot appetizer, which included pecan-stuffed mushrooms, a hit with Queenie and Robert. The entrée included chicken supreme served with a sun-dried tomato and brie cheese with a vegetable medley consisting of cut green beans, carrots and diced squash. Conversation filled the room, and it was the first time the three remaining council members had seen Clara and Amy since Leland's death.

"And I helped him," the little girl said. "He's alive now."

_Shut up, you little bitch_, Isabelle thought as she sipped her sangria, _I will literally make you choke on your food_.

"Good for you, Clara," Zoe said as she took a bite. "You're getting stronger. One day, you may be a candidate for the title of Supreme."

"I even said that to her," Leland added. "She's quite a talented little girl, and she saved my life."

Cordelia sunk her head, swallowing her food after sipping from her wine glass.

"Ten years ago was the first time in centuries the Seven Wonders was attempted without its Supreme present," she explained finally. "Now, this is the second time in a row. The previous Supreme before Julie was Fiona Goode, my mother. Fierce as she was…" She sniffled, "she tried her best. When Julie rose to the supremacy, I didn't know what to expect. She's made this academy more dynamic, accepting those of not only Salem descent but of any ethnicity, any race, any gender…" She sighed, taking a bite of food and swallowing, "she really was the greatest Supreme this coven has ever seen, and since the accident, I've looked up on her painting on the wall. She was like a queen. _Our _queen. She accepted everyone because she herself knew what it was like to be ostracized for what she was."

"_Inbred_?" Isabelle snickered. "I mean, I only ask because I'm curious. I really wonder how she made it to be Supreme. She didn't even have all the Seven Wonders, and she didn't resurrect Zoe, as I've heard a billion times."

"Her cryokinesis was a substitute for pyrokinesis," Cordelia explained. "Julie was _very_ respected. You came here as soon as she opened those doors to more students."

"But I still don't get how she became the Supreme," Isabelle asked.

"Come to think of it," Christina said, joining the conversation, "aren't you supposed to be in good health without any…uh…um, what's the word? Illnesses? Yeah, that's what I mean."

"Julie wasn't sick," Queenie said as Kyle took away her empty, cleaned plate. "And her being inbred is just a stupid rumor."

"Julie should _not_ have been Supreme!" Isabelle said as she pounded her fist on the table and leaned forward, jumping up from her seat. "She was born of _disgusting_ circumstances! You are such a _terrible_ bunch of liars!"

"Sit down _right now_!" Cordelia ordered. "You're getting on _all_ of our last nerves!"

"There are children in the room!" Zoe said. "Sit down!"

"Another candidate was meant to be Supreme, but _not_ Julie! I forget her name, but she was one of the most _powerful_ witches this coven had ever seen! I was told stories by_you_, Cordelia! What, you're all of a sudden _denying_ it!"

The blind witch had no choice but to use concilium to make her sit down and not cause a ruckus, but even that didn't work and the witch felt fatigued as Isabelle kept rambling.

"Oh, I remember now!" she exclaimed. "Helen Mortenson. Pyrokinesis like no other could. Telekinesis that could _kill_. Powerful concilium! Sure, she died during the trial of Descensum, but she was _powerful_ beyond all compare. Even _me_!"

At that moment, Queenie took her butter knife and rested her hand palms-down on the table, stabbing the top of her hand and transferring the injury to the young, belligerent goth, who shouted and grimaced with disgust. Robert, Leland, and Christina all laughed at her as she reacted to Queenie's 'human voodoo doll' power, but nothing else could've worked as effectively.

"You better sit your ass down!" the ebony witch snapped. "You also better hope you do good in Descensum, 'cause that's our _next_ trial after dessert!"

"AH! Stop!" Isabelle screamed, using her mind-control to make her stop the injury transference. It worked, and Queenie looked at Kyle, who stood by the doorway to the kitchen.

"Is it peach cobbler for dessert?" she asked.

"Yes, Queenie," he said.

"Good. Serve that up right now, please?" she asked.

* * *

The witches went on to end the day's trials with Descensum, the act of entering the underworld or, in other words, one's personal Hell. It was the most dangerous trial in the Seven Wonders, for it had a history of claiming lives by causing one unfortunate witch's soul to be stuck in limbo for eternity. Because the council members and the student candidates were all doing it in unison, Clara and Amy were given the task to watch and see who would wake up first from their experiences in personal Hell.

The first two hours, the two girls occupied themselves by looking at the pictures of herbs in a herbology book. It was quiet two hours, both long and silent, until the first to wake up did so.

Melissa was the first to wake up after seeing her personal hell of her mother dying repeatedly in her arms. Clara dropped her book and rushed over to see if the Latina witch was alright.

"I am fine," she said. "_Gracias_."

"What did you see?" Clara asked.

"I will tell you later," Melissa promised.

The next to wake up was Zoe—in ten years, her personal hell had not changed much, only this time it was Kyle telling her he no longer loved her and wanted a divorce. To make matters worse, he wanted full custody of their son Andrew.

She was followed by Cordelia, whose personal hell included having her full eyesight back. However, in an attempt to regain her Second Sight she had while blind, she repeatedly stabbed her eyes with a pair of garden shears. She had cried upon waking up and ordered the two little girls to go upstairs to bed under the pretense that there was nothing left to see for the day.

Robert sprung up only an hour later from his personal hell—it consisted of his former high school football team being the worst in the Northeast Conference; he was a Connecticut native. It was followed by being stuck in the locker room with all his team naked and showering together—for him, that was the most disturbing part.

"Oh, god, never make me do that again," he said to Cordelia.

"No, not if you don't have to," she replied as he sat and waited with them.

Queenie was the next person to wake up from Descensum, and since she had done it so much to teach the pupils how to perform the process, it had changed since the last Seven Wonders trial. In her new personal hell, Queenie found herself betraying the coven to be the protégée of Marie Laveau, famed Voodoo priestess of New Orleans. There had not been a rivalry between the two groups since Julie becoming Supreme, which puzzled her so much when she woke up.

Leland was next to rise from his act of Descensum, his personal hell on a loop like a YouTube movie. It consisted of being struck by lighting to the point of being black and fried like an overcooked Italian sausage. It was definitely frightening for him, but to another person, it wouldn't have sounded so bad.

By the end of the wee hours of morning, Christina and Isabelle were the only ones still in their personal hells. The witches had been rooting for the brunette with the homely face, and when she woke up just a half hour before sunrise after a long wait, their wish seemed granted—but what about the case of the powerful Isabelle? What had her personal Hell consisted of? Truth is, it consisted of being crucified and having the cross set on fire in the middle of a cornfield—the three council members were extremely shocked to see Isabelle's unconscious form turn to ash. Zoe, Queenie, and Cordelia looked at each other and whispered.

"I'm shocked," the doe-eyed witch said.

"She was so powerful. I personally wouldn't want her to be Supreme, but…" Cordelia trailed off.

"Hell, I'm glad she's gone. I was beginning to hate her guts," Queenie stated bluntly. "Well, shit happens. Off to the next trial, shall we?"

Mellissa walked over to Christina, and their dark sets of eyes met.

"Are you alright?" the Latina asked.

"I'm okay, Melissa," she said weakly.

"W-What did you see?"

"Nothing." Christina's response was strangely short and abrupt.

"Nothing?" Melissa asked.

"Yeah. It was literally nothingness. Just darkness. Nothing more, nothing less. But hey, good luck to you for the rest of the way," Christina explained.

* * *

The next challenge was Divination, the art of predicting the future and finding lost people or items. A rumor had been spread during the years Isabelle was at the academy that she owned the only copy of _Maleficio_ in the world, a black magick spellbook fabled to have been compiled by demons and lesser entities—the word had gotten to the council even though no one believed such a book existed. Cordelia turned the alleged fact into a challenge—the first to find out the truth of the rumor would be the strongest in this particular trial.

Each witch took turns, mixing stones in a wooden cup and pouring them out on a special board that would give the witch visions of possible whereabouts. Of all the competitors, Leland and Melissa were the closest, with the male witch beating the Latina by a hair—Isabelle did indeed own the _Maleficio_, a bound book with old, fragile pages locked tightly by a lock similar to the _Liber Umbrarum et Lux_. There was an even more horrifying fact about the materials used in the book's back and front covers—it was not even close to leather, for it was made of preserved human skin stretched and stitched to fit appropriately to an actual book. Leland recognized the texture and nearly vomited because the book smelled terrible.

He brought it to the ancestry room to the clapping witches and other candidates.

"You found it when I could not," Melissa said with a smile.

"It was true all along. The rumor, I mean," Christina finally said. "Is that…uh…what is that cover made of?"

"You don't want to know," Leland joked.

Yet it was no joke.

* * *

The final trial was the most powerful—Vitalum Vitalis, the magickal ability to balance life forces. Simply put, it signified resurrection. For the trial, they were outdoors in the courtyard and a dead deer was procured after being road kill resulting from some careless driver. Each witch took a turn at it—Richard was able to telekinetically move its stiff limbs but not fully revive it. Leland, Christina, and Melissa tried, but to no avail. Queenie was the next to try, placing her hands on the torso and concentrating only to feel tired from the other trials. Zoe did the same, but it was Cordelia who brought it back to life—when it stood up on its legs, Melissa used her healing abilities to fix the wounds that had killed it, and the two little girls, Clara and Amy, ran to it and patted its fur.

"Aw! So cute!" Clara said, seeing it nudge at Amy's golden head.

"He likes me!" the little girl said with a giggle.

"He is good as new!" Melissa exclaimed with a smile.

"The Seven Wonders is now complete," Cordelia declared. "We will let the other pupils take a vote on who will be our next Supreme."

* * *

**A/N:**

**Who do you want the pupils to vote in as the next Supreme?**

**Leave it in the Reviews!**

**Stay tuned! :3**


	17. Epilogue

The pupils who had not participated in the Seven Wonders had stayed someplace else while the trials were taking place. Now that they were coming back to the academy, they were alerted about the ballot in which to cast their votes for the next Supreme. Voting had happened for the first time ever in the history of the coven. With such a powerful group of young men and women, the other twenty-six students who fought for their places in the elite group and lost in the competition-like mini games had a say in who would lead them next. However, the candidates could not vote for themselves or for each other—Cordelia had discouraged it.

The three remaining council members sat at the dining room the afternoon after voting had occurred at that morning. Counting ballots and organizing them in piles was not too tedious of a task because there had been no votes for Isabelle and there were only twenty-six students casting their votes. There piles for each potential Supreme. At the beginning of their ballot count, there had been an even amount of votes per witch—as they counted, Cordelia used her Second Sight to see the reason why they voted for who they did by simply touching the paper.

_"__I voted for Cordelia because she is wise and an all-around peaceful person. She'd make an excellent Supreme, considering her mother was one."_

Another paper gave her another vibe.

_"__Robert's the man! He needs to be the first male Supreme! He'd make history!"_

Another ballot came the voice of another student filling Cordelia's head; it was a young witch from the academy.

_"__Leland is totally chill. He should be the first male Supreme. I heard he died and came back to life."_

Another before putting it in the corresponding pile; this had been for Christina.

_"__I legit love her. She's so angsty, but doesn't take any shit. She'd be perfect."_

Cordelia simply giggled before saying the following: "the reasons why some of the pupils voted for our candidates…comical."

"Really?" Zoe asked.

"My Second Sight is telling me everything," the blind witch said.

"Oh, look, someone voted for me!" Queenie said, looking down at a ballot with her name bubbled in. "So happy!"

* * *

The ballots had been counted and were quite fair—a formal meeting was called in the courtyard, embellished by vines of ivy and thorn-stemmed roses with potted plants brought back to flourishing life by Clara. Every student, even the participants in the Seven Wonders, was encouraged to dress in a more formal manner than they had while attending classes at the academy. Short dresses and casual suits was the dress code, and a plethora of colors was shown in the crowd before Cordelia as she spoke.

"Good morning, everyone," she said. "Thank you all for making this possible. This has been quite a process this past week, and I want to begin this by saying, as head of the council, how proud I am of all of you for trying your hardest to try and compete in the coveted Seven Wonders."

There was clapping—even Clara and Amy, who stood next to Andrew, clapped with them.

"Miss Julie would have wanted us to move on, and your votes for the new Supreme have been counted. The Supreme has been elected!"

More clapping; the little girls giggled and looked up at Cordelia with admiration as the soft wind blew their hair.

"It was _very_ close, and we have never before in our history have had a voting process in picking the Supreme, but because there are more students than ever and a powerful bunch who underwent the challenges, it was only logical to do so. So young ladies and gentleman, without further ado, I announce that our new Supreme is…Zoe Spencer!"

Everyone clapped and cheered as the doe-eyed witch looked at Cordelia with a look of shock on her face. Kyle, who had been standing behind his son and the daughters of Misty Day, walked up to his wife with Andrew running nearby and planted a soft kiss on her lips.

"Congratulations, sweetie," he said with a boyish grin.

Zoe looked out beyond to the students who approached her and gave her hugs and well-wishes of congratulation. She received a hug from her joyous son before a few young witches smiled at her and acted like giddy schoolgirls.

"Miss Zoe, I'm so happy you're Supreme!" one of them said.

"Thank you," Zoe smiled, "I couldn't have done it without you. _All_ of you."

"Congratulations," said a young warlock.

"Thank you so much!" the new Supreme repeated. "It's an honor."

"Also," Cordelia called out during the moment of joy the students were spending with their new Supreme, "I would like to announce the new members of the Council of Witchcraft. First, a council is nothing without its head member, so as I resign from my position as such, I would like to extend the honor to Queenie!"

"What?!" the ebony witch asked, joyful tears in her eyes; yet she was shocked at the sudden news from the older witch. "You're _resigning_?"

"I've spent my whole life here, Queenie. I've had a nice time and I'm thankful for all the moments spent with you guys. Even when I was a student myself, my times with the witches of my generation were a blast," Cordelia explained. "Now, it is time for me to simply move on."

"Oh, I wish you didn't have to," Queenie sighed sadly, "I'm really gonna miss you."

The two shared a hug and swayed slightly, and Cordelia patted her back.

"You will make an _excellent_ head of the council, Queenie. I'm sure of it," the older, blind witch said. "We will keep in touch."

"Where are you gonna go? And what about Clara and Amy?" the obese witch asked.

"I found a really nice house in California," Cordelia said. "As for the girls, I plan to adopt them."

"You want to _adopt_ them?"

"Yes," Cordelia replied with a nod. "I…I care about them a lot. I care for their well-being. Also, I never was able to have children. Now I can experience being a mother figure to two lovely, _powerful _girls. We will come back _every_ summer."

"Is that a promise?" Queenie asked.

"Yes, that is a promise. Witch's honor," Cordelia said.

She went back to her place of speaking and raised her arms in the air.

"Also, I would like to extend my congratulations to Robert Dunwall, Leland Parsons, and Christina Scheer, as they are the newest members of the Council of Witchcraft!"

Another round of applause broke out as Zoe and Queenie took their places back near Cordelia.

"And last but certainly not least, a school of this much prestige is nothing without its new headmistress. That honor goes to Melissa Ortega!"

The Hispanic beauty's eyes widened as she looked at Cordelia, going over to her to give her a tight hug as she muttered in Spanish to herself.

Ah, _Díos mio! Gracias! Muchos gracias_!" she said with excitement. "Why are you leaving?"

"I've decided it's best for me to move on. I'm resigning from my position and I have plans to adopt Clara and Amy and move to California with them. It is my promise to visit every summer," the blind witch said. The two girls finally came forward and looked up at her with smiles.

"You…want us to live with you?" Clara asked.

"California?" Amy asked curiously.

"Yes, my dears," Cordelia said. "I was going to ask you if you would like to live with me, because I had plans of adopting you both."

"You wanna adopt us?" Clara's face lit up as she smiled.

"Yes, Clara," Cordelia smiled.

"We'll come live with you," Amy said with pure joy, running into her arms and smiling as Clara joined them in a group hug. Life could not have gotten any happier; except for maybe one thing. Melissa approached the blind witch as soon as she let the little girls go.

"Before you go, I want to give you a gift," she said.

"A _gift_? But it's too soon," Cordelia said. "I'm not leaving _yet_."

"May you please take off the sunglasses?" she said in her soft-sounding Latin-American accent.

The students watched as Cordelia slowly removed her sunglasses, and they gasped to see the heavy scarring around her eyes from when she had sulfuric acid splashed in her face by a witch hunter years before. Then, Melissa went behind her and had to get on her tip-toes to put her hands over the puffy, red scars surrounding her eyes as she concentrated. Using her healing abilities, she was able to rid her completely of the scars before finalizing her "gift" to Cordelia with an orb of light directed at her eyeballs. It radiated for a split second before going into Cordelia's head, and once the young witch took her hands away from her eyes, the receiver of the energy could not believe what she was seeing, literally—Melissa had granted her sight back and restored her eyes to their original chocolate brown shade.

"I can see!" she exclaimed, holding out her arms and nearly crying tears of joy as she hugged Melissa. "_Thank you_! Thank you so much, Melissa!"

"Now you can see everyone, but do not worry about your Second Sight. It is still there," the Hispanic witch said. "You are very welcome, Miss Cordelia."

Now life was at the epitome of greatness—what could possibly go wrong?

* * *

After his banishment, David had been stuck in limbo in the dominion of dead people's spirits, demons, lesser entities, those repenting for foul deeds during life. _Foul deeds during life_, he thought as he moved through the darkness and toward a tower surrounded by torches. _I did foul deeds as demon 'n an incubus, if that's what they mean, But durin' my life I always tried to be a good boy. Even though I landed myself in the occult, I still was a good boy_.

Inside the tower high up, past the locked cells of many souls who had committed terrible acts of malice during their lifetimes sat a woman upon a suspended straw bed from the wall. Each spirit-prisoner in the decrepit, gray stone, dungeon-like tower was given something terrible to do to punish themselves, whether it meant holding off on relieving themselves for days, depriving themselves of food and drink for weeks on end, or being chained tightly to a wall without any chance of lying down or stretching. This woman, however, had already received the brunt of her punishment; being bloody-eagled a million plus times was enough for her to simply gaze in a mirror constantly to look at how horribly she had aged.

In life, she was a great beauty—youthful, stunning, her hair the color of virgin snow and her skin the same smoothness of a marble sculpture. She also was quite powerful, even dangerously so, but anyone with power of that magnitude could control their rage and anger somehow. Now, she was washed-out and horribly aged; wrinkles and sunspots mottled her skin; her once full black eyelashes were gone; her eyes, once the fiery color of amber, were now a dull light brown shade that looked soulless and simply dead. Her lips, once full and pink, had excessive ravish-me-red lipstick smudged at the sides. Her hair, a brassy blonde shade, fell over her face as she gazed into the mirror some more. It wasn't only the walls driving her to insanity; it was having to look at herself and remember what had been and what could've been.

Suddenly, the gate she was locked behind opened—a familiar, yet sinfully handsome face seemed to be her escape for a brief moment. His eyes were intensely blue and penetrated through her softly. His hair was brown and styled in a messed look from his time alive. His body was built and incredibly strong-looking, and he was as tall as her memory remembered him to be.

"My, my," he said. "I thought you'd remember me."

The woman's spirit stayed silent.

"Elina Darling…"

"Don't _ever _call me that," she grunted hoarsely, turning away from him with the mirror in hand as she keep looking into it.

"But why? Why'd you change your name?" David asked. "Oh, I know…'cause you didn't wanna be daddy's lil' whore no more."

The eyes of the woman's spirit blazed, almost turning red as she gritted her teeth and stood up from her place on the uncomfortable, suspended straw bed.

"_Take that back!_" she hissed. "Get the HELL out of here!"

"But don't you know who I_am_, Elina?" David asked. "I'm David Loring. Farmer's market. Barnwell! 1979! We met there! Don't you r'member?!"

"No, I don't, and even if I do, I'll deny it all the more!" she sneered.

"I have to admit, I wasn't mad at _you_. I was mad at your daddy for makin' you into what you were," the incubus stated. "He corrupted you, Elina. You could'a been so much more."

"My father was nothing but a drunk bastard after he lost my mother. I didn't respect him after that. He was fucking joke," the spirit replied forcefully.

"You wanted to be a nurse," David said. "You wanted to use your healin' power on people to help 'em. R'member that night you burnt me by accident? R'member how you healed me up real good?"

"That was an accident," Elina's spirit replied haughtily. "I never healed again after my daughter tried to off herself the second time."

"Because you had too cold of a heart to have any left," David answered; the spirit rolled her aged eyes and shook her head.

"It doesn't matter anymore," she stated. "I'm dead. I'm in Hell. That's all there is to it. Leave."

"Hm, those smudged red lips escape the cruelest of words in the most allurin' way," David smirked. "Spit your poison. You're only hypnotizin' me."

"_Leave_!" the woman's spirit shouted as a long, bony finger pointed to the locked dungeon cell door.

"No." He paused. "By the way, this ain't Hell, Elina," he said, walking closer to her spirit and looking down into her dull, lifeless light brown eyes. "You already been to Hell, havin' your lungs ripped out the back o'er and o'er again. This is between Hell and redemption for all them _vile_ things you done in life. Half of 'em, I can't blame you for."

Elina's spirit, grotesquely aged like a shriveled-up raisin, stood up with her black, tattered, shroud-like dress falling to her feet with the mirror hugged to the side like a schoolbook. Their eyes met, and her soul's voice sounded bone-chilling and intimidating.

"I killed my father to put him out of his misery. I killed my brother's wife to punish her, but to punish him as well," she explained. "I've killed clients while working in the brothel, which I am now truly remorseful for because I only killed them for the thrill. Of course, minus the two who tried to rape me. I tried to kill my own children because they were a shame to me, but I gave them up when I failed. I tried to kill my husband, but my daughter was there to revive him back to life. I…I…"

She collapsed to the floor of the dungeon cell, dropping the mirror she was sentenced to look into to view her ugliness—it shattered into large, sharp shards as she covered her face with her decrepit hands. As her tears fell, the incubus came over to her and crouched down, taking her form into his arms and holding her close.

"Shh…" he whispered. "….Elina…."

The demon closed his eyes as he heard vague muttering coming from the spirit he had been holding.

"What's that?" he asked tenderly. He let her go, and her lifeless, dull light brown eyes stared at him; he could still see the youthful fire in them as she had during life.

"I used t-to be so beautiful," she sobbed. "My life t-took such a terrible turn…I never wanted to be a-as evil as…a-all t-that. I was an…_awful_ mother…I…a-abused what I-I had…and now…I-I am nothing."

"You exist, my dear Elina…you're even admittin' that you weren't always the monster you think you became," David said softly, holding the sides of the aged soul's head, his fingers nestled in her brass-colored hair. "You _never _were a monster to me. If anythin' I never told you how much I loved you for who you were."

Elina's spirit gasped slightly and she furrowed her eyebrows inward with confusion.

"Your eyes may look dull as charcoal, but they pierce through me still, my darlin'. They're scannin' me, readin' me, but what I say is true. Even after I died in '85 in that car crash, 'fore I b'came a demon, the tickin' of the clock drove me to insanity," David explained. "I was sent to college, and I thought ev'ryday, 'how much longer can I wait b'fore I see my Elina again?' But of course, the sun rose and fell….the moon rose and fell…hm…" The demon paused and thought of what to say next. "Darlin', don't you see you been everywhere but here _while_ here at the same time? You been in my _heart_, Elina. Even as your soul blackened and you…_aged_, I never stopped lovin' you. I'll love you 'til I'm wiped outta existence. My adoration for you will never sway. Elina…"

There was a moment of silence—she had a fleeting thought of the horrific ways her three children died on Earth. She felt a familiar burning deep inside her core, the rekindled flames flickering against the walls of her heart valves, tearing away at her heartstrings.

"Elina…this is Heaven. I didn't know what Heaven was 'til meetin' you," he explained with a slight smile as his eyes sparkled lovingly. "I had a different idea of what it was like to be in paradise but…" He sighed, singing his next sentence in the song he had sung so much in her name: "The only heaven I'll be sent to is when I'm alone with you_…_"

David took Elina's tortured soul back in his arms, holding tightly as he sung softly in what sounded like a whisper to her ear. Thoughts ran through her mind as he continued.

"Command me to be well…"

_You're past that point, buster._

"There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin…"

As David pressed his lips to the wrinkled cheek of Elina's aged soul, she reached down at where the mirror had shattered against the cell floor and discreetly held the longest, sharpest shard she could find, gripping it so tightly that it nearly cut her hand.

"In the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene…"

_You created madness. You killed my three children._ She gripped the shard and grabbed a duller piece of broken mirror as David held her, peeking as she rubbed the two pieces together behind his back.

"Take me to church…I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies…"

Elina's soul proceeded to sharpen the makeshift blade of glass on the larger shard by rubbing the edge with the duller piece.

"I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife…"

_I'm sharpening my knife right now. Keep singing._

"Offer me that deathless death…"

_No. I prefer quick and painful._

"Elina, let me give you my life…"

_No, I'm taking it anyways. _The vengeful woman's spirit gripped the sharp, long shard and got out of David's embrace, quickly stabbing the broken mirror piece into the side of his gut. As he gasped in pain, he looked to see where she had stabbed him, feeling the sharp object run him through to his back.

"OW! Ah…" _That was for killing Julie, _she thought_, she may have been an inbred bastard, but she was_ my _bastard_.

_STAB!_ Right into the opposite side right after abruptly switching hands.

"AH! Elina! IT HURTS!" David screamed tearfully. "Don't hurt me, my love!"

_That was for Chase_, she thought, _the other of my inbred bastards. I misjudged him while alive, but I was wrong_.

_JAB!_ The last, forming a perfectly traceable upright triangle of wounds, hit him deep in the heart. Elina's soul even twisted the shard of glass as David died right at that moment. Taking his dead body nearer, she whispered in his ear.

"That was for Eleonora," she hissed. "You killed my children, and I decided that you pay for _your_ misdeeds."

Upon pushing the demon's corpse back on the floor, she stood up and gasped at three women fading into view with the help of colored orbs designated to their beings. The first to come into view came from a mint green orb and was dressed as though she had lived in the 1600s—aside from sparkling, intense sapphire eyes, most of her platinum, tight curls were back and kept beneath what looked like a coif with straps hanging down toward her shoulders. Her outfit was simple, consisting of a white chemise beneath a fitted bodice and billowing skirt that was part of the over-garment.

The second woman was the tallest and possibly the oldest, and Elina's soul could recognize her face as she came into form from an indigo orb—she had long raven black curls with a streak of gray, a chiseled face, long brown tunic with a white apron held by brooches, a leather pouch hanging off her belt, and a bear fur draped over her shoulders.

The third woman came into manifestation from a purple orb and was the shortest present. Elina immediately knew who it was—she appeared to be dressed in clothing from the 1950s, a plain gray blouse with a green crinolined skirt, hose covering her legs, and black x-strap shoes with a low heel. Her golden hair was up in a crown braid, and on her youthful, beautiful face were slight freckles over the bridge of her nose. Her lips were somewhat full and pink, and her eyes were luminous and verdant, expressively glittering at her.

"Mamma?" she asked—the last woman to appear was Britta, her mother.

"We have come for you," she said in Swedish, looking into her daughter's aged face as she shook her head with disbelief.

"I…I don't understand, mamma," Elina's spirit stated.

"We could just leave you here," the woman with the coifed head snickered. "We'd be happy to arrange that."

"Ingibjorg," the tallest woman hissed. "Hush!"

Elina's spirit stared up as the woman, who looked like someone from the Viking era, approached her. It was just then she noticed that the woman had been holding a staff carved with strange symbols only she herself could possibly know. Remembering her life on Earth, she gasped and immediately knew her name.

"Geirdís?"

"It is I," she said in her harsh-sounding, yet calm voice. "Your mother speaks the truth. We have come for you."

"I don't understand," Elina's spirit said. "_Why_?"

"Those who live without discipline die without honor," Geirdís stated. "You have restored your honor, and you have fully redeemed yourself."

"By simply killing yet _another_ person?" Elina asked with confusion at the tall, intimidating woman's logic, looking down at the demon's corpse—no blood seeped from the body.

"It is not that. It is that you avenged your children. He killed them," she explained. "Now, you may come back to the Other Side and thrive with those who have gone before you."

Elina's tortured soul was in shock, looking at the three women; she fixed her eyes on Britta, who came closer to her and held her hand.

"You won't look like this anymore," she stated. "Some golden apples will do the trick just fine."

"And your powers," Ingibjorg said, "they'll be given back to you."

"Are you ready, descendant?" Geirdís asked, extending her other hand.

Without hesitation, Elina nodded—_no more Hell for me_, she thought as they faded out of the dungeon cell, _no more suffering_.

**A/N:**

**That's a wrap! ****_Incubus _****is over :3**

**Did you like this fourth installment of my AHS series? I don't know if I will continue this, but it may be an idea to consider for the future.**

**As a side note, Elina DID end up redeeming herself for the crap she's pulled, and the three who visited her are her ancestors Geirdís and Ingibjorg (if you didn't know previously) and her mother Britta. Yes, she made an appearance as well.**

**Please leave a ****Review****, ****Favorite****, and ****Follow****!**

**Thanks to everyone who read, reviewed, and did everything else! ;)**


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